


Sanctum

by LashesToAshes



Series: The Sanctum Collection [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 93,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23400442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LashesToAshes/pseuds/LashesToAshes
Summary: Finding herself back on track since the war Hermione Granger-Weasley is happy with her life, loving husband, great job, beautiful home that is until a well earned promotion turns her world upside down. Stuck between the past and the potential for a new start Hermione must figure out who she is and what she wants from her life. A Dramione fic.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: The Sanctum Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923877
Comments: 242
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much love goes to tectonictigress for helping me so much when I first had this idea and to TriDogMum for keeping me going and getting me to the end point!

Misery

_Where'd you go?_

_I got so used to being 'round you boy_

_I'm trying not to care, but where'd you go?_

_I'm doing my best to be sensible_

_I'm trying not to care, but_

_You're like drugs, you're like drugs to me_

_I'm so into you totally_

_You're like drugs, you're like drugs to me_

_Drugs to me_

_So put me out of my misery_

_Hurry up, come see me_

_Put me out of my misery_

_Hurry up, come see me_

_Enough, enough of this suffering_

_Hurry up, come see me_

_Put me out of my misery, put me out of my misery_

* * *

Standing alone in her living room, Hermione Granger-Weasley stared at the impressive waterfall before her. As much as she missed Ron, this assignment had its perks. Creating her own home in the depths of this ancient cave had been a challenge, but one that she had relished. The timing could not have been more perfect - she needed space and Ron was away on another Auror mission. Since he had passed his three-year intensive training, he had been away on missions all over the world. 

Listening to the calming fall of the water, Hermione breathed deeply as her head pounded again. She had felt lousy for the last few days, but today she had had enough. This morning she had been woken by a dull throbbing in her head which had now progressed into a full-blown headache. She had hoped a day of lying on the sofa with the soothing waterfall sounds would help, but no, she felt worse than ever.

Frustrated to the point of tears, Hermione wrapped her arms around her torso and breathed deeply, trying to release the tension which had worked its way into her shoulders when a bout of nausea hit so strong she lost her balance. She stumbled backwards as panic made her heart skip a beat, missing the arrival of her saviour until he was catching her fall.

Hermione kept her eyes closed as she exhaled slowly and relaxed into Draco before she turned and cuddled into his warm embrace, her earlier thoughts of Ron replaced by memories of Draco as he held her tightly. 

Their odd little relationship had begun somewhat tempestuously when Draco began working in the Department of Mysteries, hired on as a Dark Artefact consultant to help Hermione with an extremely unusual case. Convinced he was the same condescending twat from school, Hermione had raged, demanding that he be removed from the case. As the weeks progressed, Hermione found herself intrigued by the man before her. They had spent a copious amount of time together and not once had her former tormentor sneered at her. If anything, he had been the perfect gentleman and she had been the bully.

Resolved to change her attitude, Hermione made a consistent effort to involve Malfoy in what she was doing or trying to achieve instead of barking orders and waiting for him to bite back. In return, Draco had offered tiny insights into his life and garnished her with new bits of information relating to the dark artefacts they were studying. Slowly but surely, Hermione’s good intentions began to extend outside of work. A few months later, Draco could be found sitting somewhat uncomfortably between Harry and George at Hermione’s 21st birthday. Thinking back to the beginnings of their friendship and all the progress they had made, Hermione felt her heart swell with pride. Everyone had changed following the war in one way or another, none more so than the man beside her. 

Smiling to himself as Hermione released a contented hum, Draco pulled her in closer as she shook. He rubbed soothing circles on her lower back and felt the icy coolness of her skin. “Are you ok?” Draco asked quietly, trying to get a look at her face tucked against his chest.

Instead of answering, Hermione nodded, savouring the feel of his expensive jumper rubbing against her cheek, feebly attempting to keep hold of Draco when he tried to pull away. 

Laughing, Draco took pity on Hermione, wrapping her more securely in his coat, “You know we’re going to be late for lunch,” Draco mentioned quietly. Whilst he was enjoying having Hermione wrapped around him, Draco was anxious to avoid the wrath of Molly Weasley. 

Groaning loudly at the mention of lunch, Hermione felt Draco’s repressed laughter vibrate through his broad chest. Today they were expected to be at The Burrow for another Weasley lunch, bound to be jam-packed and full of noise. It was far from ideal when all Hermione wanted to do was stay snuggled against Draco. 

As if on cue, Hermione’s ward bell rang loudly, interrupting another moment of silence. Reaching out with her magic and feeling Ginny’s presence, Hermione reluctantly waved her hand to lower the wards, curling into Draco for protection as the harsh click-clack of Ginny’s heels echoed throughout the cave. 

Leaning down to whisper, Draco asked, “Are you sure you’re ok?” his concern now evident in his tone. 

Feeling the room spin again, Hermione ignored Draco’s question, choosing to take deep even breaths as Ginny’s loud voice joined the din created by her high heels clacking against the stone floor.

“Mum sent me as you’re both late,” she announced, joining them in the living space. 

“We know,” Draco began, turning to look at Ginny over his shoulder. “I came over to pick Hermione up but as I walked in I’m pretty sure she was about to faint so here we are.” 

Disgruntled, Hermione pinched at Draco’s skin through his jumper. No one understood her desire to live in this underground ancient cave and they used every opportunity to tell her it was not good for her.

Sure enough, Draco’s moan of “Ow,” was drowned out by Ginny launching into another rant about the dangers of living underground, almost as if Hermione hadn’t bothered to look them up herself. Forcing herself away from Draco, Hermione shot him a look, turning to wordlessly and wandlessly summon her coat from the closet.

Heading for the exit on unsteady feet, Hermione grabbed Draco’s hand, telling herself it was for his benefit, not hers. Following suit, Ginny turned and made her way back outside, still lecturing even though she knew they likely were not listening. 

“I’ll see you at the house in a minute then,” Ginny said brusquely before turning on her heel and disapparating. 

Sighing, Hermione looked up at Draco. “Don’t you dare leave me with them today,” she said, trying and failing to inject a bit of force into her words.

Draco smirked, “Well…I do have an important meeting I should be at,” he joked lightly before Hermione paled and swayed on her feet again. “Hey - are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, tilting her chin gently so he could look at her properly. 

“I’m fine,” Hermione lied, shrugging to avoid looking into his eyes. Draco had the uncanny ability to read her like an open book. “Just don’t leave me.”

“As if I could ever leave you,” Draco replied tucking her firmly against his side. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” Hermione mumbled as she wrapped her arms around him once more. “Just keep us out of sight in case I’m sick.” 

Thinking of their favourite spot next to the old apple tree, Draco secured his grip on Hermione and apparated them both away.

Lunch at The Burrow was a hectic affair, as always. Due to the size of the gathering, they had once again found themselves outside, making use of the family picnic tables. Sitting quietly next to Draco, Hermione enjoyed the refreshing breeze as she steadily ate through the small amount of food on her plate and ignored the looks of concern coming her way every few minutes. 

Chatting animatedly with Charlie, George and Angelina about Quidditch, Draco snuck an arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her close as he thought of the first Weasley lunch she had dragged him to. It had come shortly after the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione, along with Harry, had insisted he attend and despite his best efforts, Draco had found himself surrounded by Weasleys. 

To say he was daunted by such a thing would have been an understatement, avoiding eye contact with everyone but Hermione. Draco had sat very quietly for the first hour of lunch, that was until Harry had challenged him to a Seeker showdown and everyone promptly began splitting into two teams for the post-lunch match. As soon as the first match finished they scheduled another, then another and another. It was now a monthly ritual for them all to get together and play with whoever was in the country at the time. 

Originally there had been a game scheduled for today, but with Angelina heavily pregnant, Harry and Ron away on another mission and Bill and Fleur busy with their renovations to Shell Cottage, Ginny had called the game off. 

As lunch drew to a close, Draco turned to Hermione. “I can take you home now if you want?” he offered quietly, taking note of her still peaky complexion.

“No, I’m fine, thank you. I feel better here,” Hermione replied, moving slowly to follow everyone else inside.

Naturally, Draco was there to catch Hermione when she lost her balance again. “You’re not fine,” he muttered, holding onto her waist as they made their way into the house. “We’ll stay another half hour, then I’m taking you home.”

“Whatever,” Hermione mumbled as she sat down on the sofa, impatiently waiting for Draco to join her. Curling up against him, pleasure hummed through her body as Draco began lightly tracing patterns across her arm. How was it she could enjoy this man’s touch so much more than her husband’s? Shutting her mind down before she could overanalyse the feeling, Hermione allowed her body to melt into Draco’s. 

Refusing to allow guilt to mar her happiness, Hermione watched as everyone fawned over little Victoire. It was her second birthday next month and she already had the whole family wrapped around her little finger. Arthur was currently entertaining her by letting her bounce all over him, creating a different noise every time her little body landed on his. 

Tears pricked in Hermione’s eyes as she wondered if this was what it would be like when she and Ron had their first child - lazy Saturdays at his parents where everyone doted on their son or daughter - when guilt flooded her system. Gods, she was so confused. Being with Draco soothed her, she relished his touch and craved his company, but Ron was her husband. 

Ron, who wanted children so desperately it was all they ever spoke about. Ron, who relentlessly pushed the issue until Hermione had caved, even though he knew she wanted a career first. At the time, Hermione had wondered if she was being selfish holding off on having children, but watching the family now, Hermione knew in her heart she was not ready for this yet. Agreeing to try for a baby with Ron when their relationship was just beginning to mend had been a mistake, but how could she tell Ron without him hating her?

Closing her eyes against the tears that threatened to fall, Hermione concentrated on Draco’s hand as it continued its meandering path up and down her arm, convincing herself as she did that she deserved this little slice of happiness. After everything Ron had done, she could enjoy this.

For months their relationship had been rocky, with Ron’s missions becoming longer and longer, Hermione’s old anxieties began creeping back into her day to day life, the respite Ron’s presence was supposed to provide when he returned never prevailed. Instead, Hermione was told tales of how he and his _partner_ had escaped situation after situation by the skin of their teeth and how they were praised for _their_ teamwork, with Ron even commenting once how they were so close they were almost the same person. It hurt thinking of Ron with his _other_ woman. It wasn’t enough that Ron constantly compared the two of them in every conversation, he had to go and stay with her during their separation. He could have gone anywhere but he went to _her_. Pushing away all her hurt and confusion, Hermione focused on Draco, only Draco - his steady heartbeat, his divine smell and the aura of calm he carried with him. 

Draco knew Hermione had fallen asleep against him when her grip on his jumper slackened and her breathing became heavier. Settling further back into the sofa and noticing the tear tracks on Hermione’s cheeks, Draco decided to delay his plans, not wanting to upset Hermione further by breaking his promise. Knowing how much Hermione enjoyed his caress, Draco kept up his smooth rhythm, worrying as he did so about how much putting on a brave face was really costing her. 

An hour later as the chatter died down and the group started to disperse, Draco decided it was time to take Hermione home. Moving from the sofa to say their goodbyes, Draco smiled as Hermione reached out for him in her sleep. He thanked Mrs Weasley for her fabulous cooking and carefully wrapped Hermione in his coat before lifting her into his strong arms.

“You take good care of her Draco. From what Ronald tells me they’ll be starting a family soon!” Mrs Weasley gushed as Draco carefully followed her through the kitchen, hoping she missed how his hands clenched possessively on Hermione’s body.

“I always do,” Draco replied, thinking of all the times he had cared for Hermione after something dear _Ronald_ had done to upset her. Mrs Weasley waved them off happily as Draco increased his grip on Hermione and concentrated on the wooded area which concealed Hermione's home before disapparating. 

Feeling the welcoming magic of her home pulsate around her, Hermione relaxed in Draco’s arms and reached out with a sleep laden hand to pat Draco’s chest slowly in thanks for bringing her home. 

Draco chuckled and made his way through the cave. He entered her spotless bedroom, faltering for a moment as he tried to ignore the memories of the last time he was in there. Holding her carefully, Draco moved the duvet back and swiftly settled Hermione down, removing her shoes before placing the covers up to her chin, just as she liked. Planting a small kiss on her forehead to satisfy his desires, Draco sighed as he stood up and filled the glass of water on her bedside, wishing more than anything he could crawl in beside her. 

“Thank you,” Hermione sighed sleepily as she felt Draco move away.

  
“No problem, Granger, now sleep,” Draco replied, quietly pulling the door closed behind him. Walking back through the living room, Draco’s eye was drawn - as always - to the wedding picture of Hermione and Ron. _Stupid ginger git_ , Draco thought irritably as he scuffed his shoe against the floor. Jealousy was not something he was accustomed to feeling, especially when it came to a Weasley having something - or someone - he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione laid completely still as Healer Norton performed the usual health checks. Part of the agreement with her assignment was monthly healer appointments to ensure the magical force held within the cave wasn’t affecting her physically nor magically. Luckily for Hermione, her department and the Aurors shared an on-hand Healer situated within the Ministry for total discretion and ease of access. 

The well-practiced routine had Hermione relaxing for the first time that week as her mind drifted to Draco. She was still overwhelmed by his attentiveness over the weekend. Hermione had attended plenty of Weasley gatherings over the years, both with and without Ron, but Draco’s presence had been a reassurance when she was feeling so out of balance. 

Draco seemed to understand her in a way no one else did: he didn’t push her into talking when she didn’t want to, and he knew what she needed when she didn’t. Hermione felt wrong for comparing Ron to Draco, but it was unavoidable. Time and time again, Ron had put his wants and needs ahead of her own making her feel unimportant in their marriage. 

A quiet cough brought Hermione back to the present. Sitting up slowly, she watched as Healer Norton walked back to her desk and gestured for Hermione to join her. 

Butterflies filled Hermione’s stomach as she sat waiting before the Healer. One word and her assignment could be over. She loved living in the cave - it was her space. Not that she didn’t love living with Ron, but staying in their marital home whilst he was on assignment accentuated the distance between them, making it that much harder to adjust when he was home. Fidgeting with the hem of her cardigan, Hermione looked up as Healer Norton rifled through her paperwork. 

“Well then, Hermione,” Healer Norton began happily, her tone allowing Hermione to relax slightly. “All of your vitals are fine. Your liver and kidneys are functioning perfectly, your heartbeat is strong and your brainwaves are as normal as ever. In addition to that, the power stored within your magical core has increased again. Have you noticed any increase in the power of your spells?”

Hermione shifted in the stiff wooden seat, attempting to make herself more comfortable as she pondered Healer Norton’s question. “I do seem to be more proficient in wandless and non-verbal magic at home, but I put that down to the change in circumstances and feeling more relaxed,” Hermione began timidly. Saying it out loud made it seem more curious. “I also seem to have a stronger sense of the magic within the cave. I can recognize when I’m near the wards and who exactly is trying to gain entry.”

“How interesting,” Healer Norton replied, scribbling across her notes before looking back up to study Hermione. “There was something else that appeared during your checkup.”

“Yes?” Hermione questioned, her voice shooting up an octave as alarm bells went off in her mind just as Healer Norton appeared to shift in discomfort. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, this isn’t my area of expertise,” Healer Norton began apologetically. “The scan showed you are pregnant…” 

Blood thundered in Hermione’s ears, drowning out the rest of the Healer’s words. Every muscle in her body tensed up, ready for flight as the word ‘pregnant’ drummed in her mind with every beat of her heart. After a few moments of panic, logic pushed itself to the front of Hermione’s mind. She should have seen this coming. She had tried, once, for a baby with Ron, but then he had left for his most recent mission. She struggled to believe once was all it took. 

Yes, she had come off the potion, and yes, they had  _ tried, _ but this was much too soon. Wasn’t your body supposed to take time to adjust to not having the potion? Weren’t you supposed to sit and calculate your most fertile days? Hermione had known the minute Ron had fallen asleep that night that she wasn’t ready for any of this. She had calmed herself with the thought that she could explain to Ron, again, why she wasn’t ready, but that hope had apparently been in vain.

“Thank you,” Hermione mumbled as Healer Norton looked at her expectantly. “I should, umm, get back to work.”

“Miss Granger,” Healer Norton called as Hermione made to leave the office. “You know this will go in your record. Please make sure to follow up with your regular Healer. 

Hermione nodded numbly and forced a weak smile on her face before turning and walking on unsteady legs back toward her office. Passing quickly by the Auror office, she kept her head down, keen to avoid bumping into anyone. She could feel her earlier panic bubbling away in the pit of her stomach as she turned the corner, taking the longer route back to her office. She was going to have a baby…

“Hey, Granger,” Draco greeted lightly as Hermione’s shoulder collided with his own. When she didn’t immediately acknowledge him, he spoke again. “Earth to Granger, anybody home?” Draco joked, waving his hand in front of Hermione’s face.

“Dr-Draco?” Hermione questioned confused, her mind still repeating the word ‘pregnant’ as she stared into his eyes, eyes which had seen her at her best and worst, eyes which had seen her naked not so long ago, eyes that - “DRACO!” Hermione all but shouted in the quiet corridor as her two trains of thought collided. 

“Oh, gods,” Hermione moaned as she drew in short sharp gasps. She stumbled backwards out of Draco’s reach and turned around to run. Chest heaving, she flew down corridor after corridor, not noticing the tears as they streamed down her face, the feeling of her muscles burning taking her back to those horrid memories of fleeing through the Forest of Dean away from the Snatchers. 

Hermione threw herself around the next corner, pausing briefly before her eyes landed on a hidden alcove. Her heart constricting tightly in her chest, she dashed down the quiet corridor and sunk to the ground, her legs trembling.  _ No, no, no, no, no, _ Hermione thought, her hands reaching up to pull on her curls as her body quaked with the force of her sobs.  _ I can’t be...not now...not after everything _ .

Back in the main corridor, Draco watched as Hermione vanished around the corner, his brows drawn in confusion.  _ What the hell was that about? _ Sending his papers back to his office, Draco jogged through the hallways searching for a sign of Hermione, pausing when a stifled cry alerted him to her hiding place. He moved forward, his heart stopping when he found her crumpled on the floor.

“Hermione! Hermione, what’s wrong?” Draco questioned frantically as his shaking hands tried to remove Hermione’s clenched ones from her hair. 

“Please, Hermione,” Draco pleaded, mildly relieved when her mouth opened to speak.

“I...NO...can’t be…” Hermione muttered wildly, ignoring Draco as he began checking her for any signs of injury.

Confusion turned to concern as Draco gave up on his battle with her hands, deciding instead to try to get her to look at him. “Hermione,” he whispered, placing a gentle hand against her cheek to wipe away her tears. “Please speak to me, you’re scaring me,” Draco confessed quietly, gazing into her eyes.

A deep, shuddering breath escaped Hermione’s lips. Looking up into Draco’s glistening silver eyes, she snapped back to reality, her back crashing into the stone wall behind her as she pushed away suddenly. 

Her mind filled with images of Draco, he was  _ always _ there. It was Draco who pulled her back from the brink of her panic attacks. It was Draco who consoled her when Ron was an arse and it was Draco who had been there for her every day during her separation from Ron. Hermione’s mind fumbled to a stop and rested on that one image of Draco bathed in the strange blue light of the cave that she had tried to forget. 

“No, no, no, no,” Hermione mumbled shooting to her feet as Draco rocked backwards. All she could do was panic. The sensation overwhelmed her, crushing any rational thought as Hermione ran, thinking only of home. She whipped through the crowded corridors, ignoring the curious glances of the people she passed by as the beating of her heeled boots echoed around her. 

Looking up from his spot on the floor, Draco started to ask, “Granger, wha-” as he brushed the dust from his trousers, his hands freezing when he glanced around and realised he was alone.

Troubled by Hermione’s erratic behaviour, Draco headed to her office, only stopping when Penelope Clearwater called out to him. “Have you seen Hermione, Mr Malfoy? The meeting started ten minutes ago.”

Realising Penelope was watching him intently, Draco recalled the fact that she took great interest in his friendship with Hermione and did his best not to look confused by her question. He knew Hermione would never purposefully skip out on a meeting, especially not one with Potter. Judging by her earlier reactions,  _ something _ had happened, and that thought unsettled him more than anything. Draco briefly wondered if something had happened to Ron. He knew the Ministry still had the Aurors out hunting for the remaining few Death Eaters. What if one had got the better of the newly-trained Auror? “Unfortunately, she is feeling unwell and has headed home,” Draco answered easily, his fingers twitching at his lie. “Is there anything urgent I can take back for her?”

“No, Mr Malfoy, thank you for the offer,” Penelope simpered, making Draco’s skin crawl. “I’ll let Mr Potter know she won’t be attending the meeting.”

Draco nodded and pushed past her, continuing to Hermione’s office. As he entered, he noticed her desk was in order. Her quills were lined up neatly alongside her inkwells, her in-tray was clear and the out-tray was stacked with organised paperwork - nothing out of the ordinary. Furrowing his brows, Draco grabbed Hermione’s coat and bag, exiting quickly. Something had seriously upset Hermione, and he’d be damned if he let her suffer on her own. Strolling out of the Ministry, Draco popped into the closest grocery store and grabbed some essentials for dinner - knowing Hermione, she probably hadn’t been shopping since before she had fallen ill over the weekend.

Ten minutes later, Draco paused as he walked into the cave, listening intently for signs of Hermione’s whereabouts. Sure that she was here somewhere, Draco moved through the cave, dropping the groceries in the kitchen as he went. Usually, Draco took the time to appreciate Hermione’s cave. She had created - with a dedicated team from the Ministry - a beautiful home, without damaging the sanctity of the cave. Today, however, Draco wanted to see  _ his _ witch. 

Anxiously running his fingers through his hair, Draco headed back to the bedroom, knocking lightly before he pushed the door open. Through the gloom, Draco could see Hermione’s small frame in the center of the bed. He walked in slowly, listening as Hermione tried to calm her tears, her deep shaky breaths disrupted by the occasional sniffle. 

“Hermione,” Draco called softly as he slowly walked forwards, careful not to surprise her again. “Hermione, it’s me.” 

When Hermione didn’t acknowledge him, Draco continued, unsure. “I can leave, if you want?” he questioned, hoping she wouldn’t send him away. 

Bottom lip trembling, Hermione shook her head and wrapped her arms around her legs tighter, trying to hold herself together. She didn’t want Draco to leave, but she was terrified she would tell him...tell him everything, and that wasn’t fair to him nor Ron. 

Worried as Hermione bit down hard on her lip, Draco quickly kicked his shoes off and slid onto the bed just in front her, cradling her body against his as she shook against him. 

_ Why did he have to be so damn nice? _ Hermione thought, her body betraying her thoughts as she relaxed into his arms. Hermione cursed Draco, cursed him for being so damn lovely and making her head a jumbled mess. Most of all, Hermione cursed him for knowing her too damn well. His muscular arms had molded her against his chest and Hermione hated it. She hated the way it made her feel safe, hated the way she wanted to stay here forever, hated the way it felt  _ right. _

In that moment, Hermione hated herself. All she wanted to do was confide in Draco, the words weighing heavily on her tongue as his hand moved against the small of her back. Pursing her lips together tightly, Hermione reminded herself - for what felt like the millionth time - that she had to tell Ron first, her  _ husband _ Ron. It was the right thing to do, but oh how she longed to be reckless just this once. 

Attempting to distract herself, Hermione focused on the movement of his hand rubbing her arm, the soft pads of his fingertips felt smooth against the gooseflesh that had erupted over her skin. Draco had changed a lot since the war, as had everyone else who had gone through that experience, but after all the cases they had worked on together and the way their friendship had developed from there, she knew she relied on him too much for comfort. She felt safe and secure here in his arms, and after everything he had shared with her, Hermione knew she could trust him. A few months into their friendship, Draco had confessed to Hermione that following his stint in Azkaban, he had spent a full year in intensive therapy, coming to terms with what he had lived through and learning how to live in this post-war world.

Draco too was lost in his own thoughts. He hadn’t been this close to Hermione since that night nearly six weeks ago. His body remembered, even if he was trying to ignore the fruity smell of her hair and the way her head rested perfectly over his heart. The way she had looked that night still made Draco’s heart pound. Laid beneath him in the sand as the water nipped at his feet, surrounded by the strange blue light from the glow worms on the cave ceiling - radiant was the only word for it. Her chocolate-coloured eyes had been locked on his own stony silver as they’d moved together, climbing higher and higher. 

Draco wasn’t sure how long he had drifted off into his fantasy, Hermione still snuffling against him as he replayed images from that night on a loop. In an attempt to bring himself back down to earth, Draco thought about his next business meeting with Theo, mentally organizing his main points for their upcoming proposal to the Board. 

A few hours later when Hermione’s breathing had returned to normal and she’d stopped sniffling, Draco tried to coax her from the bed, partially due to the fact that his left arm had gone numb from where Hermione had laid on it, her head either resting against his chest or shoulder. “Shall I cook some dinner?”

“Mmmm,” Hermione replied croakily, “yes, please.” Draco held her tightly against him one last time before freeing his arm and easing off the bed to saunter off into the kitchen.

Hermione sighed and stretched out on her bed. What the hell was she going to do? Just as her brain was about to go into overdrive with all of the possibilities, Draco summoned her for dinner. Standing stiffly, Hermione straightened out her work blouse, pulling at the collar where it had gone awry before twisting her trousers back to settle at her hips. 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Draco had prepared her favourite meal - linguine with edamame pesto - and she ate in silence. The thoughts she had succeeded in ignoring earlier were now buzzing around her mind, demanding attention, and Hermione was thankful for Draco's company. She didn’t enjoy eating alone, and he didn’t feel the need to fill every moment with conversation. 

_ Could the scan have been wrong? _ Hermione thought as she gazed out at the waterfall. No one was really sure what effects the cave would have on her body, and people got false positive tests all the time. Hanging onto that thought, Hermione forced herself not to panic and decided to call her muggle doctor in the morning to make an appointment. Of course, she was still going to have to talk to Ron and Draco.

Realising that sleep would not come easily tonight, Hermione looked up at the blond man before her. He was sitting opposite her, casually reading as he ate. Butterflies danced in her stomach as Hermione pondered her question.  _ Can I really ask Draco to stay the night? _

It had all begun during Ron’s first Auror mission. He’d been away for over a month with no contact, and Draco had the impeccable timing to walk into Hermione’s office when she was in the middle of a panic attack. The image of Harry,  _ dead _ in Hagrid’s arms, had flashed before her eyes, making Hermione stand suddenly from her desk. She found her back against the wall as her heart constricted. With shaking legs, she slid to the floor, failing miserably to pull herself back together.  _ They’re just nightmares _ , she kept telling herself over and over as her mind attacked her with the same image, over and over. Nothing had worked until Draco had walked in. With his hands firmly gripping her shoulders as he murmured words of encouragement, his presence helped ground her to the now, drawing the line between reality and the residual fear from the previous nights nightmare. 

From experiencing his own nightmares, Draco knew a little company always helped. He had  _ selflessly _ offered to stay with her that night, in her spare room, much to his own chagrin. His face betraying no hint of surprise when Hermione had hurriedly accepted his offer. 

It was that first night that Hermione’s nightmare had awoken him, scaring him half to death with her piercing screams. After that, he was consistently sneaking into her room to stop her tossing and turning, his presence always calming her movements. When she had moved into the cave, she had sheepishly suggested Draco sleep on the sofa as there was no second bedroom. Despite the fact that she  _ knew _ he would end up in bed with her, Hermione transfigured the sofa into a bed so it was more comfortable for him. Draco had watched her, smirking the whole time, knowing there was no way he was sleeping in her living room.

“I can hear your cogs turning, Granger,” Draco joked, turning his full attention to her. He had been waiting for her to talk, willing her to come to him. Her earlier scattiness was so unlike her, but Draco didn’t want to force the issue. He had a feeling it was something she needed to choose to confide in him about. “What’s up?”

Slightly embarrassed, Hermione twirled some pasta onto her fork. “Well, umm,” Hermione hesitated before blurting out, “would you stay with me tonight?” and hastily stuffing the food into her mouth. Despite the fact Draco had frequently stayed with her to help with the nightmares, actually asking him to stay seemed to cement that fact that she was more shaken by today's events than she cared to admit. 

“Seriously?” Draco began as Hermione shrunk back in her chair. “That’s what you were worried about? If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. Simple. Just don’t try that sofa nonsense, you know we both sleep better sharing the bed.”

Hermione smiled shyly, her relief making her relax briefly in her seat as Draco stood and took their plates to the kitchen. “I’m just going to go shower then I’ll see you in bed, yeah?” he called as he headed off to Hermione’s bathroom. 

Hermione rose from the table and nodded as she returned to the living room in search of her favourite book of fairytales, surprised to find her coat and bag hanging on the hook before turning to head back to her room. 

Lying in bed later that night, Hermione tossed and turned. She had asked Draco to stay to help her sleep. And yet, as he laid sleeping soundly next to her, all of her thoughts were of Ron. 

Ron, the love of her life, her husband, her first. They had shared and been through so much, but the thought of telling him she could be pregnant terrified her. Hermione knew he loved her and only wanted the best for her, but sometimes she felt it was only on his terms. She had been so thrilled to be given the opportunity to work and live in this ancient magical cave, but Ron had reacted badly, shouting and screaming at her for ‘putting her career first’ before storming out in a huff, not to be seen for the rest of the night. 

Draco rolled over and reached out for Hermione, his arm snaking around her waist as if he could sense her troubled thoughts even in his sleep. Pulling her tightly against his body, Draco released a contented sigh before continuing to doze, and Hermione felt herself relax, albeit slightly. Maybe she would get some sleep tonight after all. 


	3. Chapter 3

The working week had passed by Hermione in a haze. Every waking moment she had pushed herself into her work, searching in vain for the origins of the cave she now called home, and every night her sleep was disturbed by horrifying nightmares of the war. Now she found herself anxiously waiting in the sitting room of her marital home for Ron to return. The dust which covered the pictures on the wall had been banished easily with a flick of her wrist, giving the impression that the home was loved. 

Hermione hadn’t seen him since their reconciliation nearly three weeks ago. Due to the nature of his Auror mission, they hadn’t been in contact. Feeling as if there was now this gaping chasm between the two of them, Hermione prepared herself to make the jump, even if she was the only one willing to. Her uneasy thoughts were interrupted as the front door opened and then slammed shut.

“Hermione? Baby?” Ron called out as he took his shoes off in the hallway. The house was quiet, but Hermione was always there waiting for him when he came back from a mission.

“I’m in the living room,” Hermione nervously called back, standing from the sofa to greet him as he bounded into the room.

“Oh, I’ve missed you!” Ron exclaimed, picking Hermione up off the floor and spinning her around before planting a firm kiss on her lips. “We were staying in this awful little shack and all I could think about was coming home to you,” he gushed as he peppered Hermione’s face with more kisses. “Have you missed me?”

“Of course I have,” Hermione replied, trying to delicately pull back from his embrace. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, Ron.”

“Can you tell me later?” Ron asked lowering his voice, his hands moving to Hermione’s hips and pulling her against him, connecting their bodies where she could feel his growing arousal. The idea of finally trying for a baby with her had been consuming his thoughts - it was all he had wanted for so long now, he could hardly keep his hands to himself. 

“I, umm,” Hermione struggled as Ron kissed his way from her cheek to collarbone. “No, I need to talk to you now.”

“Hermione,” Ron sighed as he twirled a loose piece of her hair around his finger. “I’ve been waiting for this for weeks, come to bed with me.”

Squeaking slightly as Ron’s strong arms circled around her waist, Hermione tried injecting a little more strength into her voice. “Ron, no. We need to talk - now.” Taking advantage of his momentary lapse in concentration, Hermione forced herself away from him, using the coffee table as a barrier between the two of them.

“You promised, Hermione,” Ron grumbled, his mouth turning down at the corners as Hermione hesitantly backed away. “You promised we’d try for a baby and now you’re running away.”

“I am not running away,” Hermione responded, slightly stung by the accusation. In all their years together, it had never been her that ran away. Recalling the memory of Ron leaving whilst they were hunting for Horcruxes made tears pool in her eyes, distorting the look of confusion that crossed Ron’s face. Focusing on what she had to say and steeling all of her Gryffindor courage, Hermione spoke. “I might be pregnant, Ron.”

Ron felt his heart skip a beat, she was  _ pregnant _ . The tension that had been sneaking into his shoulders snapped and a smile instantly lifted his face. “Already?” he asked, laughing and shaking his head in disbelief. They’d only tried once!

“Yea, I, um,” Hermione started slowly, conscious of the fact she was about to crush him with her next words. “The work scan showed it but I-”

Hermione was cut off as Ron cheered. “That’s great!” He quickly stepped forward to embrace her again, only stopping when Hermione held up her hands, eyes pleading with him to keep back. 

Ron watched Hermione carefully; there was something off about her responses today. His eyes flicked to where she was nibbling her bottom lip, then to her hands, trembling as she lowered them to her sides. Feeling his mind switch to Auror mode, Ron asked, “Why aren’t you happy?” noticing how Hermione’s body stiffened in response to his question. 

“It’s...I...” Hermione stuttered as tears tracked down her face. This was it, Hermione thought as she breathed deeply, looking up into his eyes as she forced her next words out. “When we were separated…I…I slept with Draco.”

“Excuse me?” Ron questioned, staring at Hermione through narrowed eyes, convinced he had misheard her words as his arms dropped limply to hang at his sides.

“I slept with Draco,” Hermione replied, doing her best to speak clearly through her tears. “It was just one night. I...we…I was still on the potion - I promise -”

“When?” Ron asked, his voice tight and controlled. As the silence in the room grew, Ron felt himself take a step away from Hermione. He could see his hurt mirrored in her features, but she had no right. She had done this to him - to them - it was her fault. Trying to control his building temper, Ron spat out his next questions, the volume increasing with each one. “When did you sleep with him, Hermione? A month before I came home? A week before I came home? A DAY before I came home?!”

“Two weeks,” Hermione squeaked out in reply, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as Ron’s face transformed from one shade of red to the next. This was worse than she could have imagined, knowing she had to do it and actually doing it were completely different things. Nothing could have prepared her for the disgust as it flashed across Ron’s face. 

“Are you telling me,” Ron growled, unable to see past the rage that clouded his vision as he pointed a shaking finger at Hermione, “that after everything that we’ve been through, that you might be carrying that git’s child!? When I…when all I’ve ever wanted is to have a family with you!?”

Hermione nodded slowly, unable to bear the thought of hurting him any further but knowing she had to. Time froze as they stood staring at each other, each trembling with the riot of emotions which flooded their systems until the air around them shifted, crackling with energy as Ron’s body began to go rigid. 

“How could you!?” Ron cried suddenly. In his mind’s eye, all he could see was the smug smirk of Malfoy as he put his hands on Hermione, much like the way the Horcrux had taunted him with images of Hermione and Harry together. Shaking his head to clear the image, Ron lunged forward, his face contorting with pain as his shins came into contact with the coffee table, his long arms stretched out towards her. 

Panic cut through Hermione’s fog of tears as Ron grabbed at her, causing her to stumble backward. She felt a brief stab of fear in her heart as she noticed the wild look in his eyes. He didn’t look like her husband right now. Gasping in shock when Ron gripped her arm, Hermione twisted away, causing Ron to fall to the floor, his howling cry echoing through the room. Pulling herself together momentarily, Hermione closed her eyes and thought of the woods near her cave, the pull of Apparition washing over her as she disappeared into the darkness. 

Hermione staggered as she landed heavily in the clearing, marvelling for a minute that she had made it without splinching when the sound of Ron’s cries reverberated in her mind. Flinching away from the sound, Hermione squeezed her eyes shut before starting to shuffle her way home, the stems of the newly-bloomed bluebells breaking beneath her feet. Hermione felt the security of the wards welcome her as she rubbed away the tears flowing down her face, the silence of the cave punctuated by her weeping as she meandered her way toward the sofa where she collapsed into a heap. 

Curling in on herself, Hermione allowed her grief and fear to overwhelm her. What had just happened? In the course of no more than fifteen minutes, she had not only turned her world upside down but crushed her husband with her betrayal, forgetting that he had crushed her first. Hermione wept freely, realising she had never been scared of Ron before; the crazed look in his eyes still haunted her.

Feeling her stomach churn and roil, Hermione grabbed a pillow and clutched it to her chest, thinking of how she now had to tell Draco. Deciding to get all the damage done in one night, Hermione raised a shaking hand and sent him a Patronus. 

*

Draco appeared with a resounding crack in the wood surrounding Hermine’s cave, looking frantically from side to side. Hermione’s Patronus had been unintelligible, and he had apparated straight to her forest in a panic, not knowing if she would actually be at home. Draco proceeded cautiously, thankful when the wards recognised him and allowed him through. He stepped carefully into the cave entrance and peered through the darkness. If she was in trouble, he didn’t want to give his position away. Hearing a strangled cry, Draco’s heart leapt into his throat and he surged forward, wand raised, into the living room, confused when he found Hermione tightly curled on her sofa, tears tracking down her cheeks.

Troubled by the sight before him, Draco wasted no time in scooping Hermione up from the sofa and moving her so she was nestled safely against him. Holding her tightly, he rubbed soothing circles across her back, occasionally pecking a kiss on her untamed hair to reassure her as much as himself. 

Draco let his gaze wander as he steadily rocked her. Now that he had her in his arms, his earlier panic was slowly beginning to subside, allowing his mind to relax. As always, Draco became mesmerised by the ancient waterfall directly opposite him. In the quiet of the house, the gentle fall of the water created a soothing atmosphere, with every room looking out over the impressive sight. Looking down at Hermione’s face as she pressed it further into his chest, Draco wondered what had her so distressed.

Since they had become close friends, Draco had never known her to be so emotional. The Hermione he knew was usually calm and collected, happy with who she was and where she was going. Draco was well aware of the troubles between Ron and Hermione, and Ron’s subsequent admission that pushed Hermione into leaving their home and suggesting a trial separation. But in these last three months, he had never seen her cry so many times. 

Sitting in silence, Draco lost track of time. He wasn’t sure how long it took for Hermione’s cries to subside, but eventually, they did. Peering up at Draco, Hermione muttered a small, “Thank you,” whilst tugging at the sleeve of her jumper. “Sorry, I think I ruined another one of your jumpers,” Hermione joked half-heartedly. 

“Sod the jumper,” Draco said rubbing his hand over the wet patch on his chest. “Want to tell me what all the tears were for?”

Hermione sucked in a deep shuddering breath and sat up straighter, concentrating on what she wanted to say as she looked into Draco’s shining eyes. “Well, you know I have those body scans every six weeks? I um, had one on Monday and the Healer - Healer Norton - told me that…told me that I was…told me that I’m pregnant.”

_ Well shit _ , Draco thought, his disappointment heavy on his tongue as he hid his surprise and looked into Hermione’s warm brown eyes. “Ok,” he said in his most soothing voice, unsure if it’s for Hermione’s benefit or his. “But that was Monday, what happened today?”

Looking into the depths of Draco’s eyes, Hermione saw nothing but his desperation to know what was wrong. For all of his calm on the outside, she could tell he was troubled. Still toying with the sleeve of her jumper, Hermione looked off into the distance, feeling the words tumble from her mouth. “Ron got home today,” she began calmly. “I went over there to tell him about the pregnancy and he was...he was  _ so _ happy. But I, I had to tell him, about us, you know…about us,  _ that _ night.” 

Surprised and more than a little confused, Draco nodded, encouraging Hermione to continue. “He was furious, Draco,” she said as her hands started to shake, her mind replaying the events in broken segments. Closing her eyes against more tears, Hermione rested her head back on Draco’s chest and continued. “He started yelling, he was so upset, the air shook with his raw magic and then he...he just broke and grabbed me. I don’t know how, but I got his hand off me and Disapparated.” Hermione shuddered as the sound of his cry came back to her, and she counted to ten before opening her eyes again. 

Draco was stunned into silence. That man was her  _ husband, _ for Merlin’s sake. He was supposed to be there for her! Not scare her when she was obviously feeling vulnerable. The hand that rested against Hermione’s back stopped its circles and began clenching and unclenching into a fist as Draco tried to reign in his temper.

Noticing the change in his demeanour, Hermione lifted her head, looking him in the eye as he stared dead ahead unblinking. Feeling the fabric on her top tighten then loosen, Hermione realised that Draco was doing his best to calm himself. Having seen him use this method before, Hermione sat still and waited. Feeling his breathing slow, Hermione watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion before he focused back on her, his eyes shifting from steely grey to swirling silver. The air around them buzzed with an energy similar to the one she had felt  _ that _ night. Unsure about what it meant, Hermione stayed silent. 

Heart thrumming in his chest, Draco broke the silence first. “You  _ had _ to tell him about us?” he questioned staring at Hermione as his brain pieced everything together. “Are you saying that I,” Draco paused rubbing his free hand across his face, “are you saying that I could be the father?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied, ducking her head so she didn’t have to watch the storm of emotions she expected to flit across his face. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she, Hermione Granger-Weasley, would be unsure of the paternity of her child. 

Draco sat quietly for a moment, stunned, before gently grabbing Hermione’s chin and tilting her face up to his. Reading her scared eyes, Draco spoke softly, “Ok.”

That was all Draco said and that was all Hermione needed to hear. Feeling some of the weight lift off her shoulders, Hermione crushed herself against him, saying a silent prayer of thanks for his understanding. Together, they leaned back into the sofa and fell asleep, content in each other's arms.

* 

Rubbing her eyes sometime later, Hermione stretched sleepily, coming to the slow realisation that she had fallen asleep on Draco. Turning to face him, Hermione was met with his warm smile.

“Morning, sleepy head,” he said jokingly whilst brushing Hermione's hair from his face.

Flustered by Draco’s close proximity, especially after what she had told him last night, Hermione asked, “Have you been awake long?” before carefully untangling her limbs from his and sitting up to work out the kinks in her back. 

Draco pulled his own jumper straight as Hermione moved away from him, a small smile dancing across his lips as he answered, “Just a little while, do you mind if we talk about last night?”

“I suppose not,” Hermione answered pulling her knees to her chest as she rested against the back of the sofa.

Reading the anxiety as it etched its way into her face, Draco reached out, gently taking one of her hands in his own. “Did the Healer say how far along you are?” 

Hermione almost laughed at his simple question. The difference between his reaction and Ron’s was astounding - how Draco could be so calm was beyond her. “No, she didn’t, and I didn’t ask. I know it’s difficult to date so early,” Hermione rambled aimlessly, letting all her jumbled thoughts out in a rush. “I mean, she could be wrong. No one knows what living here might do to my body. Ron and I slept together when he came back from his mission, and you and I were what, a month ago? Just over? It can’t happen that quickly.”

Draco could see the hope flicker in her eyes as she spoke of the Healer being wrong, but Draco had a stronger faith in magic. If the Healer said she was pregnant, then she was pregnant. “But she might be right, Granger,” Draco replied calmly, watching as Hermione rested her forehead against her knees. 

“I know, but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” Hermione said softly, clinging onto Draco’s hand as though her life depended on it. “I’ve um...made an appointment with a doctor. You know, a Muggle healer, to get a second opinion. Did you want to come with me?”

“Really?” Draco asked, his head tilting to the side as Hermione peeked up at him. “Shouldn't Ron be going with you?”

“Ha,” Hermione huffed bitterly as she turned, her cheek was resting on her knees, giving her a full view of Draco as he listened to her. “I don't think he's going to be talking to me for a while,” she answered honestly, her arm rubbing up and down against her shins as she thought again of Ron. “Besides, I'm not so sure I want him there. He doesn't like or understand Muggle medicine. I couldn't trust him to behave.”

Draco almost felt giddy at the unexpected turn of events. He had been downright panicked when Hermione had called for him yesterday and now she was asking him to join her to see the Muggle Healer - something her husband  _ definitely _ should have been doing with her. But she had chosen him. “Well,” Draco said, letting out the breath he'd been holding, “I'm not such a fan of it either, but if it's what you want, then yes, I'll go with you.”

Hermione's shoulders slumped in relief at Draco’s words. He really was far too good to her. Sitting up straight Hermione gave Draco a brilliant smile. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, Granger,” Draco smirked, standing from the sofa and brushing down his trousers. “Now, breakfast?” he asked, holding his hand out to her.

Hermione took Draco’s hand easily, allowing him to pull her up and lead her through her lounge and into the kitchen. Watching him whip up an easy breakfast, Hermione wondered what magic it was that Draco had to always be the one who made her feel better.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione sat at her desk in the Department of Mysteries, absently twirling her pen around in her hand. She had been halfway through her most recent report detailing the steady increase in the power within her magical core when she realised Draco would be arriving soon to escort her to the doctor. This week - like the last - had passed by in a blur. Why was it that time flew when you were dreading what was to come?

Ron hadn’t tried to make contact with her since she’d last spoken to him, and she honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Surely if he loved her he would have done something by now? At least reached out to her? Slouching back in her chair, Hermione was disrupted from her meandering thoughts by a knock at the door. Assuming it was Draco, Hermione picked up her wand and opened the door, surprised to see Harry’s smiling face. 

“Harry!” Hermione squealed with joy as she leapt up from the chair, launching herself into his waiting arms. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” Harry replied through his laughter, squeezing Hermione extra tight as she clung to him. “How are you? It feels like it’s been forever!”

Feeling Hermione sag a little in his arms, Harry watched as the beaming smile slid right off his friend’s face. “What?” Harry asked, puzzled as Hermione pulled away from him and sat on the edge of her desk.

“Have you seen Ron?” Hermione asked quietly, her fingers gripping the solid wood beneath her. Seeing Harry made her realise that very soon everyone she cared about was going to know about her night with Draco. 

“No, not yet. Well, I’ve seen him, but we all had an Auror meeting. He’s coming for dinner tonight, didn’t he tell you?” Harry questioned as Hermione’s nose scrunched up, her eyes squeezing shut momentarily. “We invited you both,” his eyebrows quirking up in confusion as Hermione shook her head.

“I need to talk to you, Harry, but I can’t right now. Just promise me - whatever Ron says - you’ll hear me out, yeah?” She could feel the tears pricking behind her eyes, but she would not let them fall.

Harry stepped toward his friend and gently pulled her into a hug. “Why can’t you tell me now?” he asked, holding Hermione tighter when she shook her head fiercely. 

“I’m about to go out with…” Hermione’s sentence was interrupted by another knock on her partially open door as Draco’s face peered around the corner, “Draco,” she finished in relief, waving him forward. 

“Hey, Potter,” Draco greeted him casually, accepting his offered hand and shaking it as he spoke. “Heard you did a decent job on that last mission.” 

“Ha!” Harry laughed, letting Hermione go. “I take it you heard about the Tempest Jinx? Those new recruits are always so...excitable. You would think I didn’t have a reputation for being ‘The Chosen One’!”

Hermione giggled slightly as she pulled her coat on, shaking her hair out from its collar. “Harry,” she called, interrupting whatever joke they were about to make. “I mean it. Once you’ve spoken to Ron, you have to hear me out. Promise me?”

Noticing the way Hermione had focused on him, reminding him of the look she got when was trying to stop him from doing something stupid, Harry turned to give her his full attention. “Always,” Harry promised, extending his pinky out to Hermione, smiling as she linked her own with his. “Owl me a time and place and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said gratefully before turning to face Draco, registering the slight look of confusion upon his face at their pinky promise. “We’ve got to get moving or we’ll be late.” 

Draco nodded and headed toward the door. “Sorry, Harry. I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah, you will,” Harry shouted as Hermione and Draco disappeared down the empty corridor. “It’s been ages since I kicked your ass on the Quidditch pitch!” 

Whipping his head round to shout a witty retort back at Harry, Draco caught sight of Hermione’s anxious expression. Whilst it was good to have a friendship with Harry, right now Hermione needed him, and he was determined to be there for her. Together, they walked along in comfortable silence, almost making it to the Atrium before trouble came their way. 

A tall red-headed figure was weaving his way through the busy Atrium toward them, and Hermione let out an involuntary squeak, alerting Draco to Ron’s presence. Following Hermione’s gaze and reading the expression on Ron’s face, Draco quickly placed himself in front of Hermione, shoving Ron into a conveniently empty office with Hermione following close behind. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ferret!?” Ron raged as he stumbled into the room whilst Draco calmly cast a silencing charm on the door. “Shagging my wife and then waltzing through the Ministry with her!”

Draco glanced quickly at Hermione, her eyes round as galleons, before he spoke, his voice low and deadly. “Hermione and I frequently walk through the Ministry together. If you wanted to know what was going on in her life, you could try being there for her.” 

Hermione inched forward slowly, her shoes making no noise on the carpet so she could discreetly reach out and hook her finger around one of Draco’s, imploring him to keep his cool as his words hung in the air around them. Peeking through her lashes at Ron’s rigid frame, she breathed a sigh of relief - his gaze was firmly fixed on Draco and her movement had gone unnoticed. 

Ron spluttered incoherently as his face grew red with rage. This was the man who had slept with his wife. The one who had bullied her for years and now may have gotten her pregnant! And he was telling him how to treat her? “What the hell do you know about it!?” he shouted, moving forward so he was nose to nose with Draco.

Feigning a calm and control that he didn’t have, Draco met Ron’s gaze dead on. “Enough,” was all he said before stepping away and turning to Hermione, wrapping his arm reassuringly around her waist with a squeeze. “Come on, we’re going to be late.” 

Keeping one eye on Ron as he stood there fuming, Draco moved carefully, his firm grip reassuring Hermione as he gently guided her out the door first, keeping his body between her and Ron. They quickly walked in silence through the Ministry and out onto the crowded Muggle streets, both eager to put as much space between them and Ron as possible.

Together, they weaved through the steady stream of people, Hermione’s feet leading them on autopilot to the doctor’s in silence as her mind reeled at Ron’s reaction. How could he think it was acceptable for him to behave in such a way? If it wasn’t for Draco, who still hadn’t loosened his hold on her waist, she would be going through this alone. Although Hermione pondered to herself, maybe without Draco she wouldn’t be in this mess. 

Bringing them to a stop a little while later outside a classy Victorian townhouse in Chelsea, Hermione looked at Draco. “I’m scared, Draco,” she admitted quietly, her eyes moving to fixate on a crack in the pavement. “I don’t know what they do to verify pregnancy, I haven’t prepared myself for this. If things had been different…”

“It’s ok, I’m sure what you’re feeling is only natural,” Draco replied calmly, moving a loose curl back behind Hermione’s ear. “We’ll just see what happens.”

Nodding, Hermione stepped out of Draco’s arm and took his hand, climbing the steps before pushing the glossy black door open and stepping into the sleek reception area. “Welcome!” the receptionist greeted them happily. “May I take your name?”

“Yes, of course,” Hermione replied politely, her nerves making her blood pulse through her body. “I’m Hermione Granger. I have an appointment with Dr Matthews at three-thirty.”

“Please take a seat,” the receptionist said calmly, tapping Hermione’s name into her computer. “He’ll be out shortly.”

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, turning away to sit on the edge of one of the posh sofas scattered around the room.

“Relax, Hermione,” Draco said, sitting down next to her whilst her leg bounced up and down. He was still getting comfortable when the door in front of them opened and a middle-aged man called out Hermione’s name, causing her to jump.

Heart hammering, Hermione stood quickly, yanking Draco up with her to walk into the smiling man’s clinical office. 

“Take a seat,” Dr Matthews said, gesturing to the two chairs before his desk as he closed the door and took his seat. “What can I do for you today?”

Hermione squirmed in her seat and glanced up at Draco, his aura of calm giving her the courage to utter her next words. “I think I’m pregnant,” Hermione said, proud of how her voice didn’t waver.

“Mhmm,” Dr Matthews replied staring at Hermione through his glasses. “What brings you to that conclusion? Have you done a home pregnancy test?”

“No,” Hermione replied hastily, thinking of the box that currently sat still sealed on the counter in her bathroom. Every night she had sat looking at it, willing herself to take the goddamn test but unable to take those few measly steps across the room and actually do it. “My um, period, is late,” Hermione answered, embarrassed as she realised what she had just said in front of Draco. Why did I think it was a good idea to bring him here? 

“Right, ok then,” Dr Matthews replied easily, his hands resting on his desk as he moved to stand. “There is a simple test for that, Miss Granger. If you would, please, just pop behind that curtain and take off your undergarments, then cover yourself up with the blanket. I’ll come round in a moment and perform the ultrasound.”

Hermione stood on weak legs, finding amusement in the look of surprise on Draco’s face before moving around him to follow the doctor’s orders. As Draco made to follow her, Hermione reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder, shaking her head at him. This particular part she had to do alone. 

A few minutes later, after a somewhat uncomfortable examination, Hermione found herself once again sitting next to Draco. She was grateful that she had been able to cast a quick Scourgify on herself following the examination, it made her feel slightly more human. As they nervously waited for Dr Matthews to give them the results, Hermione gripped Draco’s hand tightly. 

Spinning around in his chair, Dr Matthews observed them both for a moment before placing a small piece of paper on his desk. Having lost the feeling in his hand, Draco gently grazed his thumb across Hermione’s knuckles, attempting to relax them both as they leaned forward. “It’s a little hazy, but there is definitely something there,” Dr Matthews said calmly as the air rushed out of Hermione’s lungs.

Realising after a few moments of silence that Hermione wasn’t going to reply, Draco spoke, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “What does that mean? She’s pregnant? Are you able to give us a date?”

“Yes, Miss Granger is pregnant, and unfortunately no, I can’t give an accurate date yet,” Dr Matthews continued, pointing to the scan in front of them where Draco could see the tiniest grey circle in a field of black and white. “Given the fuzziness of the picture, I would say you are in the very early stages of pregnancy. Most of the time on these scans, the embryo doesn’t even show up until five and a half weeks. If you would like we can book you in for another scan in a couple of weeks?”

There they were, those words she had been so afraid of hearing: she was pregnant, actually pregnant. Having it confirmed by her Muggle doctor made it so much more real. It wasn’t some rogue magical signature, a side effect of the cave. There was a real-life growing inside her. What was she going to do? She wasn’t ready for this. And what was the doctor going on about, a couple of weeks? How could she live for the next couple of weeks not knowing whose child she carried!? If she had known the doctor couldn’t be any more accurate than the test she had ignored at home, she wouldn’t have dragged Draco down here in the first place. 

Next thing she knew, Hermione’s vision was pierced by blinding sunlight as she found herself out on the street. Whilst she had been wrapped up in her head, Draco had finished the conversation with the doctor and taken her outside.

“Hermione,” Draco said tenderly, pulling her lip from between her teeth with his thumb. “I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but I have a private Healer waiting at my cottage if you want to go see her.” 

Another Healer? Hermione pondered. If she was being honest, she was sick of them. She just wanted to go home. The examination today had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Bloody Doctor sticking things where they didn’t need to go. But, on the other hand, they still weren’t any closer to knowing who sired her child. What if Draco’s Healer could do that? The promise of knowledge sparked in her brain, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to see another Healer.

Draco shifted nervously from one foot to another as Hermione focused on him and only him. It was one of those looks where Draco was sure she could see into his soul. After they had gone their separate ways last weekend, Draco had arranged the appointment, wanting to have a backup just in case the Muggle way let them down. If he had gotten Hermione pregnant, he was adamant to do everything he could for her. When he had spoken to the Healer, he had asked for her to be available straight after the Muggle doctor appointment and paid extra for her to meet them at his cottage, so Hermione could have privacy. Hoping he hadn’t overstepped the mark, Draco waited patiently for Hermione’s response. 

Relief flooded him when a few moments later Hermione nodded slowly and wrapped her arms around him. Needing no further encouragement, Draco embraced her, and quick as a flash, they were gone from London and arriving in the quiet countryside of Wiltshire. 

They walked quietly through the garden, blooming with spring flowers, towards Draco's quaint cottage. With the Manor burnt to the ground, Draco had tried living in the city, hoping the hustle and bustle would help keep him busy and on the road to recovery. However, it wasn’t long before he found himself pining for the quiet countryside he grew up in, seeking a calmer life for himself. 

Draco smiled as he recalled casually mentioning to Hermione in the early days of their friendship that he longed to live in the country again. He’d been surprised she had turned up the next day with ten different Muggle properties for him to view, knowing he would have never looked there himself. Within a month, Draco had found his perfect little sanctuary and moved in quickly, ever grateful to Hermione for helping him. 

Stepping into Draco’s bright living room, Hermione felt at ease, the country air having refreshed her senses. On his grey Chesterfield sofa, which dominated the room, there was a pleasant-looking woman waiting for them. As she stood to greet them, Draco promptly moved forward. “Healer Bradstone, this is Hermione Granger-Weasley. Hermione, this is Healer Bradstone.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Granger-Weasley,” Healer Bradstone said warmly, shaking Hermione's hand.

“Please, call me Hermione,” Hermione said, smiling at the Healer. Her bright blue eyes regarded her warmly, making Hermione feel at ease in this woman's presence. 

“So,” Healer Bradstone began, pulling out her notes with an air of efficiency that Hermione admired. “I understand from my conversation with Mr Malfoy that during a routine health scan at work, the results showed a pregnancy. I've been able to look at your notes from the Ministry, and that does seem to be the case, but I understand you would like a second opinion?”

“More like a third opinion. We’ve just seen my Muggle doctor,” Hermione replied, wondering how much detail she should go into. “We’d like a date too, if possible?” 

“Not a problem,” Healer Bradstone replied confidently. For the first time in weeks, Hermione felt like she might get some answers. Healer Bradstone turned to Draco, asking, “Where would you like me to do this? I only need a small amount of space, but ideally, Hermione should be lying down.” 

“I'm fine on the sofa if that's suitable?” Hermione said quickly. The one place Hermione hadn’t been was Draco’s bedroom and the thought of going up there for a scan seemed far too intimate. 

“Works for me,” Healer Bradstone said simply. “Mr Malfoy?”

“Whatever Hermione wants,” Draco replied instantly. He had been watching Hermione carefully since their arrival and noticed the tension in her shoulders was just starting to disappear but returned when Healer Bradstone suggested the bedroom. Understanding this was difficult for Hermione, Draco wanted to do whatever made her comfortable, plus this way he was still in the room. 

Sending Draco a thankful smile, Hermione moved hesitantly to the sofa as Healer Bradstone handed her a potion. “What is this?” Hermione questioned, looking at the shocking pink liquid in the vial. 

“This will help to accurately date the pregnancy,” Healer Bradstone explained happily. “Once you’ve taken that, I will perform my diagnostics, and an apparition, if you like, will hover just above your stomach, like a Muggle scan. This potion makes it clearer to see, therefore helping me date the conception accurately.”

Hermione shrugged out of her cardigan, draping it over the back of the sofa before she turned to look back at Healer Bradstone who was quietly appraising her.

“Do you have any more questions?” Healer Bradstone asked, her eyes flitting between Draco’s stoic expression and Hermione’s fidgeting as she toed off her shoes.

Draco moved closer to Hermione and the Healer and silently shook his head, watching as Hermione’s brow furrowed whilst she chewed on her lip. Slowly but surely, butterflies were starting to dance in his stomach, reminding him that he could soon find out he was going to become a father. Swallowing hard, Draco gripped the back of the sofa and waited.

A thousand questions seemed to barrage Hermione’s mind, but not one of them was appropriate for now. What if I don’t want to keep the baby? Gods, that’s a horrible thought. But I can choose. But what do I choose? Shaking her head, Hermione popped the cork off the potion and swallowed it down in one, pleasantly surprised when it tasted like strawberries. 

“Brilliant,” Healer Bradstone said enthusiastically. “Now if you’d like to lie back and make yourself comfortable, I can begin.” 

Draco flashed her a quick, reassuring smile as she laid back on the couch, her hand fishing for one of Draco’s plump pillows to put under her head. As Hermione’s eyes darted around the room, they came to rest on Draco. He was standing close enough for Hermione to hold his hand if she wanted but far enough away to not be invading her space. For the second time that day, Hermione was extremely grateful for Draco’s presence. 

Healer Bradstone perched on the edge of Draco’s coffee table and gently pulled up Hermione’s top, baring her stomach for them to see. Draco leaned forward, fascinated as the Healer did her work. There were so many complicated wand movements making the air around Hermione shimmer in different colours, he had trouble understanding which movement created which colour. 

Draco glanced down at Hermione’s face and studied her, the ever-present anxiety written into the wrinkles of her forehead as her fingers traced the grooves in the back of his sofa. Lost in his study of her expression, it took Draco a moment to realise Hermione’s warm brown eyes were staring at him. Embarrassed, Draco ran his hand through his blonde locks, about to stick his tongue out at Hermione when Healer Bradstone stopped her ministrations and an image hovered over Hermione’s stomach. 

“There you are, Hermione, your baby,” Healer Bradstone said softly as Draco folded his body over the back of the sofa, transfixed.

What had been a hazy black and grey image in the Muggle doctor’s office was now a defined golden apparition. Healer Bradstone closed the curtains in the room with a quick flick of her wand, making it shine brightly through the gloom. “You see here?” she asked, pointing to an area of pale gold circled by a solid gold line. “That is the gestational sac, and in here,” the Healer continued, pointing to a smaller golden circle within the larger one, “is the yolk sac, which is where your embryo lives. You see this tiny circle linking the two here, that’s your baby. Now, watch it carefully.”

Hermione gasped softly as that little gold dot fluttered before her eyes. “Is that a heartbeat?” Hermione asked, her voice breaking on the last word as Draco reached out and grabbed Hermione’s hand. Magic is amazing, Hermione thought as she watched the flickering dot.

Smiling at the look of awe of both of their faces, Healer Bradstone spoke softly. “Yes, that’s the heartbeat.”

Sweet Merlin, Draco thought as he stared hard at the image, watching the steady flicker of the heartbeat. There really was a baby inside Hermione, one that he had potentially put there. Was he ready for this? Could he be someone’s father given the example he had grown up with? What if he failed? Wait...What if it wasn’t his? Could he stand by and let Hermione go back to Ron? No, there was no way he could do that. Even if it wasn’t his kid, he couldn’t watch Hermione go back to Ron. 

“And the date?” Draco asked gruffly, trying to clear the lump lodged in his throat, knowing that this could be the moment of truth. 

“It’s still very early. I would estimate between three and five weeks based on the size of the sac and strength of the heartbeat. If we make another appointment in four weeks, I’ll be able to give you an accurate date as the fetus will be either seven or nine weeks,” Healer Bradstone informed the stunned pair. “Do you have any further questions?”

Disappointed that they still couldn’t get a date but feeling better having the pregnancy confirmed - again - Hermione looked at Draco, his intense grey eyes staring into hers, echoing her disappointment. “How can we find out the paternity?” she asked apprehensively.

“There is a test which can be carried out between ten and twelve weeks. If you did it in line with your twelve-week scan, you could also find out the sex,” Healer Bradstone responded promptly, waving her wand to reopen the curtains and dismiss the image.

Pulling her top back down, Hermione was reassured by Healer Bradstone’s efficiency. Hermione smiled at her and said, “Thank you, you’ve been really helpful.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Healer Bradstone spoke kindly. “Unless there is anything else, Hermione, Mr Malfoy, I’ll leave you to the rest of your afternoon.”

“I’ll see you out,” Draco spoke smoothly, squeezing Hermione’s shoulder before he followed Healer Bradstone to the door. 

Sitting on Draco’s sofa, listening to his calm voice as he joked with Healer Bradstone as she left, Hermione thought it was strange that in the middle of all this, she could feel so at ease in his home. If Professor Trelawney had predicted at school that Hermione would be sitting here, at the age of twenty-two, in Draco Malfoy's home, calmly discussing the possibility of having his baby, Hermione would have walked herself off the Astronomy tower. 

Now, however, Hermione smiled whenever Draco walked into the room. Every day Draco worked hard to ensure he was still moving forward positively, never giving up on the prospect of a better life for himself. Only Hermione knew of the true horrors Draco experienced in Azkaban and the depths of the therapy he had pushed himself through for a year after his sixth-month incarceration. Something like that took true dedication, and Hermione admired Draco every day for his efforts.

“So then, Granger,” Draco asked as he strolled into the room with two steaming mugs of tea, placing them down on the table before sitting next to her and taking her hand once again. “What do we do now?” 

“We wait, Draco,” Hermione replied, rubbing her thumb across his knuckles. “We wait until this little flicker is big enough to give us a date - and a dad.” 


	5. Chapter 5

“Hermione?” Harry said, waving his hand in front of his friend’s face. Having received her owl first thing this morning, Harry had kept his promise and came straight over to see her, even though his head was throbbing and his eyes stung. Dinner last night with Ron had been an interesting affair. Both he and Ginny had tried to pry information from Ron, imbibing a little too much Firewhisky in the process to try to loosen Ron’s tongue. He had been very vocal about Hermione’s  _ betrayal, _ but when Harry had pushed for more details, knowing there had to be more to the story, Ron had turned cagey and left shortly after. The tiredness he felt could be easily cured with a hangover potion, and looking at Hermione, Harry knew she wasn’t sleeping properly again.

“Sorry, Harry,” Hermione yawned, her arms stretching out as she drew in a deep breath. She wasn’t sure if the pregnancy was making it difficult to sleep or if it was all of her mixed-up emotions, but after the events of yesterday, she had only managed a few hours of rest. “Yes, most of what Ron told you last night is true. I’m pregnant, and no, I don’t know yet if it’s Ron’s or Draco’s. Did he tell you anything else?”

Harry sat stunned as he shook his head, still trying to process the fact that his best friend was indeed pregnant and wondering what else must be happening to make Hermione look so weary. Before he could even string his words into a coherent question, Hermione spoke again. 

“Of course,” Hermione scoffed, why had she even considered the thought that Ron might actually be decent enough to admit his own part in the breakdown of their marriage? As always, she was going to have to fill Harry in on the grittier parts. “Before we get into this,” Hermione said slowly, watching as some of the shock left Harry’s face, “do you want a drink?”

“Hermione!” Harry laughed, his mind buzzing with the knowledge that she had slept with Draco whilst also doing his best to absorb the information and not overreact, a feat that would be much easier to accomplish with a cold beer in his hand. “It’s nine a.m. and you’ve just told me you’re pregnant!” He knew he was staring at Hermione, wide-eyed in surprise, but he couldn’t help it. Confirming information like this first thing in the morning ought to come with a health warning. 

“Huh?” Hermione questioned before realisation dawned on her, Harry thought she was offering him alcohol. “Oh for Merlin's sake, Harry,” Hermione giggled back, shoving his arm playfully. “I meant, do you want a cup of tea? Coffee?”

“Oooh,” Harry replied happily, his eyes softening as he understood Hermione’s offer. “Coffee, please, if you’re offering. I think I’m going to need it.” 

Hermione returned two minutes later with their steaming drinks and sat facing Harry on the sofa. “Ready?” Hermione asked quietly, her fingers nervously tapping on the side of her mug as she looked into his brilliant green eyes. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Harry said, focusing all his attention on her with a small smile, remembering his promise to hear her side. 

Hermione sipped her peppermint tea, it’s flavour helping ease her nausea, as she thought for a moment, her thumb rubbing across her bottom lip as she settled herself back into the sofa. Once she had decided where to start, she took a steadying breath before she began. “We’ve been having problems for a little while now. I thought a lot of it was normal, you know? We’ve been married for two years and people start to expect stuff from you. I’ve lost count of how many times Molly has asked when we’re having kids. And neither of us have easy jobs, they’re both so demanding. It takes a lot out of us.” Hermione paused to take another sip of her tea, her hand moving to run through her hair before she continued. “For me, planning a future seemed too insignificant when we were at school with Voldemort breathing down our necks - why decide how many kids I wanted when I wasn’t sure if I would live to have them? But Ron always knew he wanted a large family, it was the natural next step for him, so he struggled to understand my need for some time to establish what I really wanted.”

Sighing, Hermione pulled at the sleeve of her t-shirt, scratching her forearm against her leg. Harry tracked the movement, realising she was unconsciously rubbing her scar against the fabric of her top. His heart ached as he looked at her, trying so hard to keep everything together was obviously taking its toll and he felt awful he had been missing the signs. The last time Harry had seen her so anxious was the run-up to her wedding. With so many people making their voices heard, Hermione had nearly called the whole thing off and insisted they elope.

As if she hadn’t stopped, Hermione continued, looking up to the ceiling as the words tumbled from her lips. “Then the missions started getting longer and longer. Being by myself in our home, alone, really started to bother me. My old nightmares were creeping back, along with my insecurities, and when Ron would come home all he would do was talk about Olivia.” 

“From work?” Harry questioned curiously, thinking of all the missions Ron had been placed on with Olivia. As Aurors, the two worked dynamically together, far better than Harry and Ron ever did, so it made sense to team them up frequently. Ron was a brilliant strategist, always had been, but Olivia had the ability to hone in on potential weaknesses, coming up with dynamic solutions to ensure the safety of all those involved. Since they had been teamed up, the overall success rate within the department had increased tenfold with far fewer field injuries. 

Harry watched as Hermione lips pressed into a thin line. Who Ron worked with shouldn’t have affected his home life with Hermione, but evidently, it had.

“Yes, that Olivia,” Hermione responded through gritted teeth, her eyes becoming hard as she spoke about her. “At first it wasn’t much, just the odd story here and there about something they had done, but then it developed into more. I was feeling pretty low, something Ron didn’t seem to pick up on when he came back. Whenever I tried to tell him how I was feeling, he’d spin it into how something similar had happened to Olivia and how she had handled it. I think Ron thought he was being helpful but all I could hear was him comparing us.”

Hermione stopped briefly to take another sip of her tea, her mouth savouring the refreshing peppermint taste before carrying on. “Eventually I asked him to stop, I just didn’t want to hear about her anymore. I wanted Ron to listen to me and help me. Maybe I was wrong to ask, I don’t know.”

“From what you’re saying, it just sounds like you wanted him to support you,” Harry reasoned, his brow furrowing in concern as he watched Hermione rub her free hand across the back of her neck. Trying to put himself in Hermione's position, Harry wondered how Ginny would react if she was asked to stop talking about a male teammate. “Have your nightmares stopped now?”

Relief swelled in Hermione’s stomach. If that was what Harry was most concerned about at this point, it meant he wasn’t upset with her, yet. “Yes, thank you for asking.” Hermione smiled at him in reply, Harry was one of the few people Hermione could really confide in about her nightmares, knowing that he endured his own horrific flashbacks. 

“No problem,” Harry replied, raising his mug to Hermione in a silent salute. For the first few months after the war, they had all stayed together at Grimmauld Place, and Harry could remember all too clearly Hermione’s screams from down the hall as she wrestled with her nightmares. “What happened next?”

Sighing, Hermione continued. “Nothing and everything, Harry. Ron got a bit of a break from the missions so he was home more frequently, and I started to feel a bit better. I wanted to make the most of it so I started suggesting we go out, see people, just do the stuff we enjoy. But he always had plans - with Olivia. The first few times I let it go and assumed I wasn’t planning far enough in advance. Then he started fobbing off my ideas, being really vague and not turning up when he agreed to be somewhere.”

“Like Percy’s birthday?” Harry asked, thinking back. Molly had planned a surprise party for Percy’s twenty-fifth, weeks in advance so everyone could be there, and Ron had missed it. Leaving Hermione to make his excuses when she turned up alone. When Harry had asked him about it, he had just said something came up and changed the subject. At the time Harry had let it go, knowing that Ron still struggled with understanding Percy’s decisions during the war and thought nothing more of it, but now he wondered if this was one example of Ron’s new behaviour. 

“Exactly like Percy’s birthday,” Hermione answered grimly, remembering the argument they had that evening when she had returned home to find him drunkenly cooking in the kitchen. “I asked him if he’d been out with Olivia and he said yes, why did it matter? Then, whilst we were arguing, he threw Draco into the mix, as I knew he would. Why couldn’t he go out with Olivia when I spent all my time with Draco? Why was it wrong for him to do it but ok for me to do it? When I tried to explain how it was different, he just wouldn’t listen and kept repeating the same questions over and over.”

“How was it different, Hermione?” Harry questioned somberly. He knew Hermione socialised with Draco all the time, and their strange friendship had been accepted by most people. But hearing her descriptions of Ron and Olivia’s relationship, he was struggling to see the differences. 

“I never put Draco before Ron,” Hermione replied sadly, her lips pulling down into a frown. Her hands trembled as she placed her now cold tea on the table and drew the closest throw pillow to her chest, holding it to her like a lifeline. “When Ron’s home, he is my sole focus. Sure, I see Draco at work, we occasionally have lunch, but I always try to make plans with Ron first. I’m always so careful not to mention Draco at home, it’s just not worth it. I was grateful that Ron came to terms with our friendship and I think part of that was because I would never throw it in his face, but I never got the same courtesy back.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, moving closer to Hermione so he could give her a quick one-armed hug. “Whilst I’m still not sure I understand one hundred percent, I can see where you’re coming from. But I think I can also see Ron’s point of view - I’m not sure how I would react in his situation.” 

“I appreciate that Harry, I really do,” Hermione continued, resting her chin on the pillow. One of the many good things about Harry was that he had learned to stop and listen instead of diving in, wand raised. Hermione knew Harry didn’t really understand her friendship with Draco - right now his confusion was written all over his face. But he was here, carefully listening to what she had to say and trying his best to be there for her. It was moments like this where Harry shone. 

Sitting with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, Hermione fidgeted with the sleeve of her t-shirt. Harry watched as Hermione’s eyes closed briefly before opening them to continue. “It was all a bit awkward after that point. Ron and I couldn’t really have a conversation without arguing, and he was spending more and more time away or out with her. For a while, I thought he was cheating on me, they just had so much time away together,  _ alone _ . In the end my sleep deprived, frantic brain got the best of me and I asked him if they were sleeping together.”

Hermione paused, startled by the strange sound that came from Harry’s mouth, before she realised he had gasped at the same time he tried to swallow. After getting the nod from Harry, Hermione continued with a weary sigh, “Ron assured me they were just friends, nothing more than partners and I believed him, so I tried to let it go. Then, when I got my promotion and the assignment to come live here, I was ecstatic. Not that anyone knew, but I had been working so hard to earn that promotion. I rushed home to tell Ron all about it, and you know what he did?”

Harry looked at Hermione, her body rigid in his arms. There was fire in her eyes as she spoke. “He told me I  _ had _ to turn it down. He’d been thinking and decided it was time for us to start a family, then he could get desk work and be home a lot more. When I said I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet, he started shouting at me how it was all my fault we were having problems and how I should be lucky he still wanted a family with me.” Stopping, Hermione rubbed a stray tear from her cheek, the hurtful words Ron had spoken still stung to this day. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Hermione? I could have been there for you,” Harry said sadly. The thought of his best friend going through all that alone pained him. “Is that what made you decide on a separation?” Harry asked out of curiosity. Ron had told him that much but had been cagey about the circumstances. Harry mentally kicked himself for not realising something was up, he was so often stuck between Ron and Hermione he tried to avoid asking too many questions. 

“I thought it would give us both a bit of space to just be ourselves for a while, you know, to miss each other. We’ve all been through so much together, I think sometimes I forget who I am outside of the three of us. I thought Ron was forgetting who I am and expecting me to be someone totally different.” Hermione finished sadly, the tightness in her chest threatening to overwhelm her. Saying it out loud made it feel so much more real, so much more hurtful. 

“We decided not to speak during the separation, give ourselves the freedom of not being husband and wife so we could be Ron and Hermione,” Hermione continued as Harry looked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “For me, that meant working and seeing friends I hadn’t seen for a long time. I don’t know one hundred percent what Ron did, but I don’t want to know either.”

“Ron only told us about the separation, not anything that happened before,” Harry replied steadily, overwhelmed by all the information Hermione had given him. It certainly explained a lot, but it left him with one burning question he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

“I’m not surprised,” Hermione scoffed, pulling her legs closer to her body and leaning heavily into Harry, somewhat relieved he now knew. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how does Draco fit into all of this?” Harry asked seriously, feeling that this was going to be the difficult bit to understand. Judging by the way a blush stole across Hermione’s cheeks and down her neck, there was definitely something there.

“It just happened one night,” Hermione replied, shrugging, trying to be nonchalant. The box labelled ‘Draco’ had remained firmly closed in Hermione’s mind since their night together, just thinking about it sent a tingle down her spine. “Draco knew all about the separation. He was there for me when I needed him. One night we were just swimming in the pool, having a laugh like we usually do, when this, this  _ energy _ wrapped around us.” Hermione paused, her eyes glazing over slightly as her body remembered how good it felt to be pressed up against Draco, his fingertips gripping her hips, strong and sure. The feeling was so real, Hermione had to stop herself from pulling up her top and searching for the indentations he had left there that night. “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, Harry. One minute I was splashing water in his face, the next, Draco and I were kissing. One thing led to another and we…”

“Merlin, Hermione!” Harry shouted, jostling Hermione as she rested against him when he moved to clap his hands over his ears. He knew for there to be a chance that Draco was the father, they had to have slept together. But hearing it out loud was not strictly necessary. “Too much information!” 

“Sorry! Sorry!” Hermione giggled, blessing Harry for not making it awkward. “Anyway, Draco and I talked, you know, after. I said I wasn’t ready to give up on Ron and me, and Draco was a perfect gentleman. He completely understood where I was coming from and promised it wouldn’t get in the way of our friendship. Which it hasn’t, at all. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him Harry, he’s been brilliant.” 

Harry observed his friend carefully. Whilst he knew Draco had changed, he still wasn’t sure he was the type of person to sleep with someone and let it be. Throughout their years at Hogwarts, there had never been rumours about him ‘playing the field’ unlike several other members of Slytherin, and, if he was ever seen with a girl, it was Parkinson. Did Draco have some kind of stronger feelings? Something that blurred the line between a friend and  _ friendlier _ ? Pushing that thought to the side Harry prepared himself to ask his burning question. “Do you have feelings for him, Hermione?” 

Hermione squirmed. Her feelings for Draco used to be that of a friend, but in the last few months, things had changed. She didn’t think of him romantically, but then, she wasn’t thinking of anyone romantically. Draco didn’t fit into any of her neat categories. He didn’t belong in the same box as Neville and Luna, nor the Harry and Ginny box. He had his own little box. Undefinable. “I don’t know, Harry. Do I enjoy his company? Yes, absolutely. We have so much in common and he understands me - even when I don’t understand myself. But I don’t think of him that way. We had an amazing night, sure, but I’m still married to Ron. I just don’t know if Ron is the same man I fell in love with.”

Knowing Hermione as well as he did, Harry could tell there was something more. Something Hermione didn’t want to acknowledge to herself. Pulling her in close Harry asked, “What do you mean Hermione? What’s changed?”

“I knew straight after we tried to get pregnant that I didn’t really want a baby,” Hermione whispered, the admission weighing heavy on her tongue as the memory of lying next to Ron as he drifted off to sleep haunted her. “It’s just, such a  _ big _ step, and I didn’t want it. I was just agreeing to avoid the same old argument with Ron.”

Hermione sniffled slightly, curling her body in closer to Harry’s warmth as he clutched her tightly. It was difficult explaining her reasoning for not wanting a child. All Hermione knew was, in the aftermath, a deep-seated feeling of wrongness settled into her bones. “I mean, I always assumed when Ron and I would have children, we’d  _ both _ be so excited - enjoying the time we spent trying, knowing we wanted to bring a life into the world, a little bit of him a little bit of me…” Hermione trailed off, her heart beating out of rhythm as the familiar feeling of frustration settled inside her again. Why could she not be  _ that girl _ who got all mushy at the thought of bearing her husband’s children? “But I didn’t get that feeling,” she admitted sadly. 

“Did you tell Ron?” Harry questioned, his voice soft as Hermione tucked her head under his chin.

“I was going to,” Hermione admitted, her fingers pulling at the sleeves of her t-shirt, stretching the fabric out and letting it spring back into place. “I knew I couldn’t carry on trying, feeling the way I did. But then Ron was away again and I had that work scan...everything kind of fell apart from there.”

Harry sat quietly for a moment, digesting Hermione’s words when he recalled her absence a couple of weeks back from one of his meetings. At the time, he hadn’t thought anything of it, but now he wondered if that was the day she found out.  _ Gods, _ Harry thought to himself,  _ if I had paid more attention I could have been there for her. I should have known something was up when she skipped the meeting. _

“After everything, I just wanted Ron to be there for me when I told him about the pregnancy. It’s so scary knowing I’m pregnant and I…” Hermione began, her voice shaking a little as she spoke. “I was so scared of telling him, especially because I’d have to tell him about Draco. God...why did I ever agree to try for a baby after we reconciled?” Hermione asked rhetorically, her fingers reaching up to tangle into her curls as her forehead rested on her open palms. “It was too soon. I told him everything, and I crushed him, Harry, totally crushed him. I just stood there as he cried then...then he snapped…shouting at me, grabbing me...I got out of there pretty quick, but the Ron I fell in love with would have never scared me like that.” 

Hermione paused, lost in thought about when and how their relationship had changed. She struggled to pinpoint the exact moment, even though it was one of the many things which kept her up at night. Had she shut him out too much after the war? Unable to talk to him about whichever Death Eater he was trailing at the time? It wasn’t that she didn’t want to listen to him, she loved listening to Ron speak, especially when it was something he was passionate about. But, hearing how the men who haunted her youth were still out on the streets free and dangerous set her on edge. Knowing that her husband, the one person she loved above all others, was out there too, putting his life on the line to protect others, made her sick with worry. So, they had stopped talking about it.

Was that it? Was that how Olivia had been able to worm herself between the two of them? For so long they had been ‘ _ The Golden Trio’ _ but what happened when one of them took a step back? Was there a void to be filled? And Olivia just happened to fit the bill? From what Hermione had learnt, Olivia was a few years younger than them, full of a thirst to rid the world of evil with knowledge of defensive spells that rivaled her own. Initially, Hermione had been curious about the girl Ron and Harry spoke so highly of, she sounded like someone Hermione could have gotten along with, but socialising with her at a Ministry function had been rather tedious. All she had wanted to hear about was their year on the run, missing Hermione’s obvious discomfort and Harry’s efforts to change the conversation as she proceeded to talk about how awful it must have been, especially being stuck with such an ugly permanent reminder scarred into her arm. 

Hermione lifted her head from her hands and shook her curls loose, trying desperately to clear her mind of Olivia; the Beauxbatons graduate, the darling of the Auror department, the woman who could handle any situation with elegance and poise. The fangirl who had memorised every low point of Hermione’s life who wasn’t afraid to bring them up in normal conversation, whilst proudly spouting every achievement of Ron’s. 

Feeling her heart rate spike as she thought of Olivia and Ron together, Hermione took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second before opening them again, realising as she did so that Harry had been watching her, offering him a small smile Hermione settled back against him.

“I’m sorry he scared you, Hermione,” Harry said gently, the revelations of the morning making his head spin. Keeping his arm around Hermione, he said, “If you don't mind me asking, what is the overlap, between the two of them?”

Hermione shuffled a bit closer to Harry, trying to make herself as small as possible before clearing her throat to answer. “About two weeks. After Draco and I slept together, I decided to give Ron another chance, right before he came back I came off the potion and I agreed we could try. I realised straight after that I wasn't ready but here I am,” Hermione paused waving a hand at her stomach, “Pregnant.”

“I’ve got to speak to him, Hermione,” Harry said gravely. He didn’t want to get in the middle of their relationship but this behaviour couldn’t continue. Plus, knowing Ron, he would not be coping too well with the situation either. “Ron can’t play the victim in this, neither of you have been saints but at least you’re taking responsibility for your actions.”

“No, Harry, please,” Hermione groaned, rubbing her hand across her forehead in an attempt to iron out the tension headache she could feel coming. “It’ll be ok, things will work themselves out.”

“Hermione,” Harry began sternly, feeling his big-brother protectiveness kick in. “What if you hadn’t Disapparated in time? What if Ron hurt you? You know he’d never forgive himself and it’s not just you now.” Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, Harry’s words bought a whole new level of meaning to her situation.  _ It wasn’t just her now. _ “What if it’s Ron’s baby? He’ll want to be there and you might need him. Merlin, what if it’s Draco’s? Would you stay married to Ron? Would Ron want to raise another man's child?”

“Harry -  _ please _ ,” Hermione begged. As much as she appreciated his kindness, it was all too much. She could feel her heart beating erratically against her ribs as her chest constricted. There were too many thoughts, too many decisions to be made. “I know, I just…there’s just so much to think through. I don’t know where to start.” 

“Why don’t we start with Ron,” Harry offered, thinking of the one thing he could help with. As Hermione shot up and out of his embrace, a look of horror on Hermione’s face, he continued quickly with the rest of his sentence. “No, I mean, just have a conversation with Ron, you and me, when he’s back in a couple of weeks, see where he is at. Gives you some time to…adjust, before seeing him.” 

Hermione sat quietly for a moment, mulling over Harry’s suggestion. Currently, Ron was the biggest issue, and Hermione knew she needed to talk to him. But could they have a rational conversation? Hermione appreciated that he was hurt by her actions, but had Ron ever considered how she would feel when he demanded children? No, he hadn’t. 

“You’d really do that for me?” Hermione asked quietly, feeling stupid for wanting Harry there with her.

“Of course,” Harry replied quickly, pulling Hermione back into his embrace, smiling when she promptly nuzzled back against his chest. “I want to be there, Hermione, for both of you. I’ve seen how Ron can get at work, I don’t want you dealing with this alone anymore.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione cried into his arms, some of the weight lifting off her shoulders at his promise. If only everything was so easily solved. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Draco!” Blaise shouted, rising quickly from his lounger to greet his guest. Dark eyes carefully watched Draco as he sauntered into the garden, noticing that something seemed a little off with his stride. 

“Blaise!” Draco called back happily, his arms thrown open as he paused, taking in the lush green grass that surrounded them. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get over here, the place looks great.”

“That’s what you get when you sell your business at the right time,” Blaise chuckled, retaking his seat and pulling a chilled beer from the cooler beside him. He held one out for Draco as he dropped down next to him. “Want a beer whilst you explain to me why it’s taken three months for you to come visit?”

“I think that’ll take more than one beer,” Draco joked, pushing his sunglasses back to the top of his head. Now that he was out of the blistering sunshine, he didn’t have a need for them, plus, he had a lot to fill Blaise in on. 

“Oh, yeah?” Blaise smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Your crush on Granger kept you busy?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. Blaise was the only one Draco had told about his crush on Hermione, and Blaise had teased him about it at every opportunity. Taking a swig of his beer, Draco replied, “She’s pregnant, Blaise.”

“Whoa,” Blaise breathed, his mouth hanging open in shock. That certainly explained why Draco wasn’t his usual self. “Well, I guess that’s the end of that.” Blaise finished somewhat lamely, what exactly were you supposed to say when the married woman your mate was lusting after got knocked up by her husband? 

“Hang on a minute,” Blaise shouted, his face splitting into an ear to ear grin. “We can go out tonight! I know this great little club.” His excitement was palpable as he swept up his beer and took another sip.

Draco peered at Blaise over his bottle, his eyes were glinting with mischief, something Draco hadn’t seen there for a while. Pulling the bottle away from his lips, Draco watched his friend’s face carefully, wanting to study the reaction to his next words. “It might be mine, Blaise.”

The mouthful of beer Blaise had just taken exploded from his mouth. “WHAT?” he spluttered, using his wand to dry off his now wet clothes.

“Hermione is pregnant, and there’s a chance it’s mine,” Draco spoke slowly, rising to his feet so he could pace around the patio. Saying the words out loud gave them a whole new meaning. Tearing his eyes away from the glorious views Blaise’s new French château offered, he met the concerned gaze of his best friend, holding it until he spoke. 

“What’s been happening these last few months?” Blaise questioned gently, really looking at Draco now. There were the telltale signs of stress etched around Draco’s eyes, which had originally been hidden behind his sunglasses. Blaise had the feeling Draco had a lot he needed to get off his chest.

“Hermione and I slept together about six weeks ago,” Draco began, his voice calm but his fingers pulling at the paper label on his beer bottle as he spoke. “Her and Weasley had this massive argument, and Hermione suggested a trial separation - basically giving them both a break. The separation started in February when she moved into that ancient cave. I think I told you about it, the Unspeakable department had me go check it with some of the Aurors for anything potentially dark.” 

Blaise nodded, sitting forward on his lounger and motioning for Draco to continue. “I decided I wouldn’t tell her how I felt, I didn’t want to make her separation any more complicated. If she had chosen to break it off with Ron, I would have told her then.”

“How very un-Slytherin of you,” Blaise teased light-heartedly, earning himself one of Draco’s trademark smirks from where he rested against the patio railings.

“I’ve turned over a new leaf, haven’t I, Blaise?” Draco joked casually, even though the small smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes. Aside from Hermione and his Mother, Blaise was the only other person who knew about his therapy. He’d been the one to drag Draco there kicking and screaming on that very grim night.

“Very true,” Blaise replied, lifting his bottle in a mini toast to Draco. It wasn’t often Draco discussed his therapy so whenever he did Blaise made a point to acknowledge how far Draco had come. “So, if you weren’t going to tell her, how did you end up sleeping with her?”

Sighing loudly, Draco took a sip of his beer and pushed himself away from the railing, sitting back down next to Blaise and placing the half-empty bottle on the table between them. He leaned back and closed his eyes, pondering how to explain it to Blaise. It was so simple and yet so complicated at the same time. “We were hanging out - like we always do - and Hermione decided to go for a swim. I followed her down to join her and when we got down there, the cave looked amazing. There were all these little glow worms on the ceiling, lighting the whole place up in this kind of, muted neon, blue, and we just floated there in the water for ages, looking up at them. It was so peaceful.” 

Blaise quirked his eyebrow up in curiosity when a genuine smile crossed Draco’s features. Not that Draco could see, he was too busy recalling the absolute look of indignation on Hermione’s face after he had dunked her, before continuing softly, “Hermione had zoned out, and I got bored and snuck up on her. After I dunked her, she came to get me, splashed a load of water in my face before trying to swim off. Naturally, I caught her. Then, when she was trying to get her revenge, she slipped whilst trying to dunk me and I just held her. She was just so enticing, I couldn’t put her down.”

Draco paused as his heart pounded loudly in his ears, the vision of Hermione standing in front of him shimmered before his eyes, his body remembering how delectable she felt wrapped around him. “I don’t know what happened,” Draco admitted slowly, trying to ease his racing heart as he sat back up to look at Blaise. “One minute I was looking at her - she looked fucking fantastic, Blaise. Eyes wide and excited, wet hair trailing down her back, full lips smiling at me in this _tiny_ bikini.” Draco almost had to bite down on his knuckle to stop a groan of longing escaping his lips as he remembered that particular bikini. “The next minute, there was just this energy, wrapping around us, tingling, and I know she felt it too. I couldn’t help myself, I didn’t want to. All thoughts of holding back vanished and I kissed her.”

Blaise looked over at his friend. Draco had picked up the beer bottle again, taken three long gulps and completely shredded the label. The stress of the situation had evidently been playing on his mind for far too long. “What happened then?” Blaise probed, hoping to keep Draco talking. 

“We fucked,” Draco said simply, throwing the statement out into the world as if it was nothing whilst tapping the ring on his finger against his now empty bottle. “Right there in the water, it was… incredible. I’ve never experienced anything like that before, I doubt I will ever again. We just came alive together.” 

Draco closed his eyes and let his head droop, willing the sting behind his eyes to fade as he laced his fingers together around his bottle and gripped it hard. Cutting any emotion out of his voice, Draco finished his story, ”Then we went upstairs, ready for more and she stopped. Looking at the spot where her blasted wedding photo used to be. I knew it was over as soon as she looked back at me.”

“Draco,” Blaise said sincerely, waiting for his friend to look at him. The fact that Draco had just willingly divulged so much, was a true testament to how far the man had come in a relatively short space of time. But, that didn’t mean Draco wasn’t struggling, the way he had collapsed in on himself spoke volumes of how he truly felt about Hermione. How it physically pained him to have walked away after sharing what appeared to be, quite a significant experience. 

“Draco,” he said again, more commanding this time as Draco started tapping his ring faster and faster against the bottle. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly, Draco opened his eyes and looked at Blaise, surprised at the look of concern on his friend's face which mirrored the concern in his voice, “I’m fine,” Draco lied, not realising his eyes were red-rimmed. “Honestly, Blaise.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Draco, you know it’s a waste of time,” Blaise replied earnestly, swinging his legs off his sun lounger so he could mimic Draco’s posture. “I know you well enough to know you’re struggling with this, so talk to me. You sound like you’re in love with the girl!”

“What does it matter if I am?” Draco replied testily, the muscles in his shoulders tightening uncomfortably as he tensed up, his head snapping up so he could look Blaise in the eye. “She might go back to Ron!”

“Mate,” Blaise said calmly, far too used to Draco’s mood swings to be intimidated by them anymore. Holding Draco’s gaze, he passed him another beer. “You’ve got to speak to her. Hermione could be carrying _your child_. She needs to know how you feel. Plus, you can’t bottle this all up inside, it won’t do you any good.”

“Aargh,” Draco groaned, taking the offered beer and slugging it back. He knew Blaise was right, he was always bloody right, but he just couldn’t accept it. The thought of bearing his soul to Hermione, knowing she had the power to destroy him with a few simple words scared him to death. “I don’t want to ruin what we’ve got, what if I scare her away? She might never speak to me again! Besides, she’s still married.” 

“When can you find out if it’s yours?” Blaise asked seriously as Draco slumped back in his lounger, his arm flung dramatically across his face. 

“Not until she’s ten to twelve weeks,” Draco mumbled, rubbing his hand across his face trying to smooth out the tension in his head. He had thought of little else since their chat with the Healer, as much as he was disappointed they couldn’t find out sooner, the promise of knowing, soon, kept most of his frustrations at bay. “Which won’t be for another couple of weeks.”

“You sound pretty clued up,” Blaise mentioned curiously, noticing how Draco’s hand paused it’s movements as if he’d said too much. If the roles were reversed, Blaise would be the first to admit he’d not have the slightest clue how to proceed. Nor how to even attempt handling the situation.

“Hermione had a Muggle doctor’s appointment and I made a Healer appointment last Friday,” Draco responded easily, keeping his eyes closed as he thought back to the last time he saw Hermione and how she’d dozed off in his arms after finishing her tea. 

“That’s a good sign, right?” Blaise asked eagerly, pulling himself another beer from the charmed ice cooler. After everything Draco had been through, Blaise just wanted to see him happy, even though part of him was mentally preparing for the potential fallout should things head south. “You’re going to the appointments with her instead of Ron?”

Draco remained silent for a moment, his brain puzzling over just how much he could share. Whilst he trusted Blaise, Draco was reluctant to tell him about Hermione’s relationship - or lack of - with Ron. Settling on a slither of truth, Draco answered with a shrug of his shoulders, “Aurors are away a lot. Besides, Ron’s not overly pleased she slept with me in the first place.” 

Blaise perked up at Draco’s none too subtle avoidance of the question and how he picked his words carefully. Sensing there was more to the story, Blaise enquired gently, “What happened when Weasley found out about you and Hermione?” Not because he wanted to know all the sordid details, but because he needed to understand the scenario. If things got bad for Draco, and there was a good chance they would, he wanted to be able to have his back.

Cursing inwardly at Blaise’s perceptiveness, Draco opened his eyes and looked at him before biting out his words. “Obviously he was pissed,” Draco answered, pausing to fight back the memory of Hermione shaking in his arms as she had told him what Ron did. “I want to tell you everything, but it’s not my place to. I’ll tell you this though, Weasley is lucky I’m a changed person.”

Instantly, Blaise understood the hidden meaning behind Draco’s words and realised just how much pressure Draco was putting himself under. “Draco,” Blaise said seriously, needing to convey just how important this was to his continued recovery, “I’m proud of you. You nearly killed yourself trying to protect your Mother. The fact that you can put this into perspective, and not act, shows how far you’ve come.”

Draco scoffed, appreciating the sentiment but not entirely convinced how long his good-guy attitude would last when confronted with Ron _bloody_ Weasley. “There is still every possibility Weasley’s luck will run out,” he said darkly, sitting up to drink some more of his beer. “But, I can’t do that to Hermione. She’s more important, no matter how much I want to hex Weasley into oblivion.” 

“You know where I am if the desire becomes too much,” Blaise said steadily, hoping Draco would come to him if required. As much as Draco had changed for the better, Blaise understood the constant effort he put into every day and how hard the transition had been for him. “Just remember what your therapist taught you and you’ll be fine.”

Nodding at Blaise, Draco sat for a moment, carefully thinking back on his words and what he had been taught. “Thanks, mate,” Draco said gratefully, his mind automatically latching back to the words of Ernest Hemingway.

"There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self." 


	7. Chapter 7 - Truth

**Truth**

_ So this is what the truth feels like _

_ This is more of what I had in mind _

_ Yeah this is what the truth feels like _

_ And I'm feeling it, I'm feeling it _

_ Something about this just feels so right, alright _

_ Something about this just feels so right, alright _

_ So this is what the truth feels like _

_ And I'm feeling it, I'm feeling it _

_ Oh it's unexplainable and it's so weird _

_ Woah it's so strange, confusing and I'm so scared _

_ But maybe I deserve this boy after all that I've been through _

_ How can all of this be true? Swear _

_ Thank you for saving me, I can't believe it _

_ Thank you _

* * *

  
  


Hermione sat with Harry in the living room of Grimmauld Place. It still amazed her how much the old house had changed, but not even the memories of helping Harry renovate could distract Hermione as butterflies filled her stomach once more. Together, they sat side by side on the sofa, waiting for Ron’s arrival so Hermione could discuss the pregnancy with him. The last two weeks had been a rollercoaster for Hermione and she was grateful for Harry’s presence, just having him there beside her meant more than she could ever say. 

Ron’s absence had been noticeable in the last few weeks, even though Hermione knew he was away on a mission, she had been unable to stay in their home. Being at work allowed Hermione to be distracted, but the uncomfortable reality of the situation started to weigh down on her when she was alone in their home. It was too empty and quiet, far too big for just her, so she had retreated to the cave,  _ her cave, _ in an attempt to make herself feel better. But even that didn’t take the edge off. 

Hermione wasn’t sure if it was the hormones or because she was there alone, but most nights she could be found curled up under a mountain of blankets crying herself to sleep. Or, in a rare moment when Hermione wasn’t crying, she could be found heaving her guts up in the bathroom. The sickness helping her to fall into an exhausted, yet restless slumber. 

As the butterflies began to make Hermione feel nauseous, she reached out and gripped Harry’s hand, squeezing it tightly as he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Everything came down to this moment. Whilst Hermione had decided, pregnant or not, to give Ron another chance, she wasn’t sure where his mind was at. The realisation stung her slightly, there had been a time when they were so attuned to each other it was as if they were one person. 

The deciding factor for her had been her wedding vows. When she had said them two years ago, Hermione had meant every single word with every fibre of her being. The thought of going back on those vows and throwing their whole relationship away for the sake of a few difficult months didn’t sit well with Hermione, even if his actions had hurt her deeply. 

Reflecting on their wedding day, Hermione missed the Floo activating and was only aware of Ron’s arrival when he stood in front of her. Blinking herself back to reality, Hermione looked up at her husband. Ron looked well, happy even, and a little flutter of hope bloomed in her chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult. 

“Hi,” Hermione said timidly, watching as Ron dropped into the armchair next to her and Harry. “How have you been?” she asked politely. 

“Good, thanks,” Ron replied easily, linking his fingers together in his lap. “How are you? And the...and the um…baby?” he stuttered, unable to look at Hermione. Although he had tried, Ron couldn’t think of Hermione as being pregnant. It seemed so…wrong.  _ They _ should have been excited.  _ They _ should have been celebrating with  _ their _ family. But they weren’t.

They were barely talking, and instead of discussing the matter privately in their own home, they were sitting awkwardly in Harry’s, the air thick with tension as they all looked at each other in turn. 

“We’re ok,” Hermione said quietly, relaxing her grip on Harry’s hand slightly. “I’m sick a lot but the Healer warned me of that, it’s just my body adjusting to all the extra hormones.” 

“When did you see a Healer?” Ron enquired casually, keeping his gaze on his hands in front of him. It was easier to focus this way, to not look at Hermione, as every time he peeked up at her all he could see was Malfoy with his slimy hands all over her.

“Draco arranged it for me a couple of weeks ago,” Hermione replied, flinching back as Ron shot quickly to his feet.

The mere mention of the blonde ferret’s name had Ron’s blood pounding through his system, he didn’t realise he was on his feet until he had to look down at Hermione, her hand still wrapped in Harry’s. 

“You mean,” Ron began, his face creasing as he recalled his last interaction with Hermione, “that day I saw the two of you at the Ministry, you were going with  _ him _ to see the Healer? Why didn’t you say anything?” Ron questioned as his ears began to ring. He had been  _ right there _ and she hadn’t said a damn word! What had he done so wrong to be denied the knowledge that his wife was going to see a Healer? Surely, being her husband meant he had some right to go with her? Better yet, of all the people she could have gone with, why had she chosen Malfoy? 

“I  _ asked _ Draco to come with me to see my Muggle doctor,” Hermione began, feeling braver from having Harry there with her. “I didn’t think you would have come with me, and after the way you acted when I told you I might be pregnant, I wasn’t sure I wanted you there. Draco came with me —  as a friend —  and when my doctor couldn’t tell me a date, Draco admitted to booking a private Healer appointment. At the time it seemed like a good idea.”

_ At the time it seemed like a good idea? _ How could she be so casual about this? Under normal circumstances, Ron knew he would have been that person; he would have held her hand as the Healer performed the scan, he would have shared that secret, amazed smile with her as they looked at the child for the first time, but no. Those special, sacred moments that Ron had been so looking forward to, had been shared with another, an undeserving party, whilst he had been pushed out.

Ron lowered himself so he was eye to eye with Hermione, his hands gripping his knees as he spoke, “You should have gone with me,” he said, faking a calm he didn’t have. “You should have  _ told  _ me, and I would have gone with you.” How could she even use his reaction to her betrayal as a reason to exclude him? Was he supposed to just nod along happily when his wife told him he might not be the father of the baby she carried? Did she not know what she’d done? Everything he had ever wanted had been right there in front of him and she had stomped all over it, vanishing away only to be seen again in the company of the man,  _ ferret, _ who had helped take it away.

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably as Ron’s eyes bored into hers, the usual bright blue dimmed by his anger. She had run through hundreds of different ways to tell Ron about the appointment in her mind, but nothing had seemed right, leading her to eventually decide that she would tell him when things had calmed down. After all, she had only wanted to establish that she was pregnant. It had never been planned to see the scan images with Draco.

It was evident as Ron continued to stare at her that he still didn’t understand the strain he had put on her, on their marriage, by demanding they had children. Hermione felt her spine stiffen as Ron’s gaze hardened, he was expecting her to back down, again, and she wasn’t going to let that happen this time.

“Ron,” Harry spoke firmly for the first time, having watched the tension creep into both of his friends over the last few minutes. “Take a step back and sit down.”

  
  


“Why are you here, Harry?” Ron asked bitterly, standing to begin pacing the room. He had been suspicious when Hermione had asked to meet at Grimmauld Place, instead of their home, but now it made sense. Harry had chosen her side. Most of the time Ron thought it was great his best mate and his wife got along so well, but now, he wasn’t so sure. “This is between me and my wife, you know, the one who slept with Malfoy whilst we were separated.”

“I offered to be here for Hermione whilst she tried to talk to you,” Harry began, trying to diffuse the situation. It had been hard for him to hear how Ron had changed but seeing it first hand was eye-opening.

Ron stood flabbergasted for a moment before he rounded on Hermione, “Why do you need him here to talk to me?!” he asked, his heart now thudding against his rib cage. This was so unfair. He was the one who was hurt by her actions, not the other way round! Why couldn’t Harry see that? 

Why couldn’t Harry see how much her career had cost them? He had waited so patiently for her to be ready to settle down and have a family, but what had she been doing instead? Working with Malfoy, getting close to  _ Malfoy _ , sleeping with  _ Malfoy _ . The betrayal invaded his every thought, over the last two weeks Ron had lost count of just how often someone had pushed him out of the way of a hex just because he’d been distracted. 

“Because you don’t listen to me anymore Ron!” Hermione shouted back, this was not going as she had hoped but she would not let him carry on. Pushing down the tears she could feel coming, Hermione continued, begging him to see her side. 

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for  _ months _ and it always ends up like this… we don’t talk anymore Ron… I’ve tried  _ so hard _ to just talk to you but you won’t listen.” With her last words, Hermione’s voice cracked, her carefully constructed wall breaking down around her. Harry quickly wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders, giving her a light squeeze.

“What have you been trying to talk to me about?” Ron questioned, his chest heaving as Hermione looked up at him, her warm brown eyes shimmering with her tears. It was so unfair. How many times had he tried to talk to her only to be cut off? He knew she still struggled with the war, hell, he did too. But it helped him to be able to talk about it. When it became Hermione who wouldn’t tolerate the war conversations, he had spoken to someone who would listen. “How you want a career instead of settling down with me? How you prefer  _ Malfoy _ of all people? Tell me, what have I missed?” Flinging his arm out before him, Ron waited for Hermione’s answer as his foot tapped impatiently.

“This is exactly what I mean,” Hermione moaned into her hands. He just wasn’t getting it. “I never said I didn’t want children, Ron. I said I wasn’t ready for them yet. I just wanted another year to establish myself but all you heard was me saying  _ no _ when it was  _ not yet _ .”

“Then why did you agree, Hermione?” Ron shouted. Since the beginning of their relationship, all he had wanted was to raise a family with her. He knew Hermione would be a wonderful mother and he had hoped that he would be a wonderful father. Each Christmas, he watched as his siblings brought their children to The Burrow, hoping each year he and Hermione would be next. “Why give me the promise of what I wanted? Why build me up? So you could laugh behind my back with Malfoy when you took it all away?”

Silence echoed around the room as Hermione sat there, Ron’s anger washing over her in waves. Hesitantly, Harry spoke. “Ron, mate, come on. This is Hermione— your wife— we’ve been friends for years. Together we defeated the darkest wizard in history, and you’re going to treat her like this? Regardless of the fact she slept with Draco whilst you were separated, she’s now pregnant, possibly with your child…”

“That’s the problem, Harry!” Ron cried out, his frustration making his eyes pop out of his head. “You sit there,” he continued, staring at Hermione as his body shook with tension, “and you can’t even tell me if it’s my baby! It’s driving me mad. You agreed to try  _ after _ you’d slept with someone else, and now we’re here, stuck, and I just… I just can’t do it. I can’t be with you knowing it might be his. Our marriage is over Hermione.” With that, Ron turned away, something inside him had snapped and he needed to get out, needed to be away from her, them, that room.

Hermione felt sick, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she clutched at her chest.  _ It wasn’t supposed to come to this, _ she thought as the room swam before her eyes. Her heartbeat in her ears drowned out Harry’s shout of  _ “What if it’s your kid!” _ as the front door slammed loudly.

It was over. Ron had left her, left them. What was she going to do? She needed to get up, she needed air, she needed to… she was going to be sick. Hermione shot up from the sofa and scrambled up the stairs, barely seeing where she was going until she saw the bathroom. Throwing herself to her knees, Hermione retched into the toilet, her eyes watering as her body heaved up her lunch. 

Panting a few minutes later, Hermione wiped the sweat from her brow and the tears from her cheeks, standing slowly to splash some cold water on her face. Looking up, she saw Harry’s reflection in the bathroom mirror, his pale face shocked and broken. 

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” Harry said softly, stepping into the bathroom, watching as Hermione’s lower lip trembled. She looked so lost, it broke Harry’s heart. He carefully pulled her into his arms. Her petite frame started to shake as gentle sobs broke through. “Ssssh,” he said soothingly. “It’s ok. It’ll be ok.”

“Wha-what… part… of… this… is ok?” Hermione managed to force out between her cries, gripping the back of Harry’s t-shirt tightly. “I’m pregnant, and my husband has just left me, Harry.”

“Hermione,” Harry spoke earnestly, lowering his eyes to hers to convey his absolute sincerity. “You will never be alone, do you hear me? We all love you, we’re going to be there for you and the baby. I can’t believe he just walked out like that. I’m sorry I didn’t notice something was up sooner.”

Those few words were all it took to send Hermione completely over the edge, every bit of fear, loneliness and heartache bubbled up to the surface and pushed her off the precipice she had been standing on and she fell. Hermione felt her knees once again hit the hard bathroom tile as she crashed. With Harry’s arms wrapped around her, she cried. She cried for her marriage, she cried for her friendship and she cried for her baby who might never know it’s father.

Harry held Hermione tightly. Never had he seen his friend like this. She had endured bullying at school because of her parents, torture at the hands of a madwoman, every crazed idea of his, which nearly killed them multiple times, and nothing had destroyed her like this, nothing. 

It was at that moment Harry realised just how difficult these next few months would be. Hermione was going to need every ounce of support to get through this and he would not let her down again. “You’re staying here tonight,” he said softly as Hermione sniffed against him. 

“No, Harry— it’s ok,” Hermione said quickly, drying her tear-stained cheeks. Right now she wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. “I want to go home.”

“No, Hermione,” Harry said, standing up and taking her hands to pull her with him, leading her down into the kitchen for a cup of tea. “You’re staying here or I’m getting Draco to take you home and stay with you.” Smirking to himself slightly, Harry thought it really was a mark of how much times had changed. He was having to bribe Hermione to stay at his with the threat of telling Draco she needed him. 

Hermione opened her mouth to protest. As tempting as it was to stay with Harry, she wasn’t up for seeing Ginny and she couldn’t allow Harry to call Draco, absolutely not. “You wouldn’t! Harry, I’m perfectly fine to get home myself.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this,” Harry said, steering Hermione into a seat at the table so he could start the kettle. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping or eating well, so either I’m looking after you or Draco is.”

“Harry _ — _ ” Hermione tried protesting, but Harry silenced her with a look, making Hermione duck her head and play with the hem of her top. 

“You’re staying _ — _ end of story,” Harry said decisively, waving his wand to summon cups and sugar. “It’s just you and me tonight, anyway. Ginny is staying in Wales for her game tomorrow.”

Feeling somewhat chastised, Hermione poked her tongue out at Harry before smiling at him. Perhaps it would be nice for someone to take care of her _ — _ just this once.

Opening her eyes slowly the following morning, Hermione looked lazily around the room, realising she wasn’t at home or the cave when the events of yesterday came flooding back to her. She was at Harry’s. She was at Harry’s because Ron had left her— them. Stretching out in the bed, Hermione realised that although she felt somewhat numb, she hadn’t been woken by her usual sickness. As her stomach rumbled, she realised it was the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast that had roused her. 

Padding downstairs in a borrowed pair of Harry’s pyjamas, Hermione tied up her unruly hair and pushed open the kitchen door slowly, stopping dead at the sight before her. 

Draco was there, in Harry’s kitchen cooking breakfast as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His head quirked up at the sound of the door. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he said, sending her a smile as he continued cooking. “Potter owled me this morning as he had to head to the office.”

Hermione’s heart stopped beating briefly as she gasped. If Harry had already left that meant she was late. “Shit! I have to go…”

“No, you don’t,” Draco said purposefully as he served breakfast. “You have today off. Potter has sorted it with work. He said you didn’t look well, and I happen to agree with him, so you’re having breakfast with me.”

Draco looked at Hermione, knowing she understood the true meaning of him being there, the unspoken words lingering in the air as Hermione rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. When Harry had owled him late the previous night, explaining what had happened between Ron and Hermione, Draco had felt broken for her. 

After all the effort she had put into their marriage, the stupid git had tossed it all away. Leaving her high and dry when she was at her most vulnerable. Draco had whispered solemn prayers to every deity he had ever heard of, wishing with all his heart that somehow, this would work out. That by some miracle, Hermione’s unborn child would be his, and he would never have to see her hurt again. 

At a loss for words, Hermione stood there watching Draco. She hadn’t seen him since the Healer appointment and yet here he was, for her _ — for them _ . Tears streamed down her face as she left out a small choked sob. “Oh, Draco,” Hermione managed before running across the room into Draco’s ready arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Sorry this is a few days late! I got lost in the long weekend and work has been manic.  
> I hope you've enjoyed and thanks as always to tectonictigress & TriDogMom for the Alpha skills :)


	8. Chapter 8

Strolling into the dining room with two plates of piping hot pasta, Draco looked at Hermione. Since the morning at Harry’s, her health had taken a definite dive. Her once-rosy complexion was now pale and drawn, accompanied by dark circles beneath her eyes. Unsure of how to make her better, Draco had made her favourite dish. Placing it down in front of Hermione, he took his seat anxiously, waiting to see if she would eat. “Bon Appetit, Lady Granger,” Draco said with a flourish before picking up his cutlery. 

“Thanks, Draco,” Hermione replied, sighing as she pulled herself up from her slouched position. Hermione grabbed her fork, trying to summon the energy to enjoy the meal. 

“Healer Bradstone owled me,” Draco began, casually twirling pasta around his fork. “She wants to know when you might want the follow-up appointment.”

“What appointment?” Hermione questioned absently. The hurt she felt from Ron’s shocked departure numbed almost everything. That, combined with the stress of work and her inability to eat or sleep properly, meant she was struggling with the simplest day-to-day tasks. At the Ministry, she was just about able to keep up but it left her with nothing at home. 

“The appointment for the next scan,” Draco said patiently as Hermione pushed her pasta around the plate. “Do you want to make one for next week or wait for around twelve weeks?”

“I don’t know, Draco,” Hermione replied, fighting down the desire to cry. Everything was such a mess, she knew Draco was trying to do what was best for her, but she just couldn’t make the decision. “I can’t think straight, what do you think?” 

“I’m happy to wait,” Draco said easily, trying not to give away how important it was to him or how happy he was that she had just taken a bite of pasta. “You’ve got a lot going on and you’re having more regular checks at work now.”

Nodding in agreement, Hermione swallowed her food and then paused, the now-familiar feeling of nausea letting her know that this meal was not going to stay down. “Damn it!” Hermione cursed as she stood quickly and dashed to the bathroom.

“Fuck,” Draco mumbled as she shot out of the room. So far, every night had been the same, it was starting to worry him. Draco had hoped by cooking her favourite meal, from scratch, Hermione would have been able to keep it down. Sighing in disappointment, Draco picked up the two plates and cleared the table quickly before heading back to the bathroom. Draco knocked softly on the door and waited for the sound of retching to finish before he slowly pushed it open, finding Hermione kneeling next to the toilet, gasping for air. 

Draco stepped in and gathered Hermione’s hair in his hand as she moved from the toilet to the sink, leaning over to rinse her mouth with tap water before she splashed away the sweat from her brow. “When was the last time you ate?” he asked, concerned as Hermione rinsed her mouth once more.

Avoiding his worried gaze in the mirror, Hermione stood up slowly and brushed past Draco, needing the comfort of her bed. Knowing Draco was following, Hermione flopped down heavily onto her messy duvet and answered, “Lunch,” as her eyes fluttered shut.

Draco rubbed his palm across his face, unsure of what to do next. Logically, he knew most women experienced sickness as part of their pregnancy, but this seemed a tad excessive. Moving to sit down next to her, Draco spoke softly. “Hermione, this can’t be normal. You’re barely eating or sleeping, I can tell you're struggling. Come stay at mine.”

Hermione grumbled incoherently into her duvet. She hated the pleading tone in his voice. She knew he was right, but her bed was calling her, and right now, all she wanted, all she needed, was to sleep. 

“Humour me,” Draco asked, picking up one of Hermione’s cold hands as she shook her head. “Please, Hermione, I can’t leave you here again like this.”

_ God Draco is warm, _ Hermione thought as his hand cocooned hers. His body was pressed against her legs, his smell swimming around her making her feel even sleepier. “Then you stay,” Hermione said dreamily, pulling his hand to her face. 

“You know I can’t,” Draco said, his voice pained. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t leave her here alone, but he had to prepare tonight for his meeting in the morning as he’d already put it off every other night this week. Looking at her peaceful face, Draco saw no other option. He carefully removed his hand from her grip and scooped her into his arms before carrying her back through the house. “You've been the same every night this week, I can’t let it carry on. I’m sorry, but you’re coming back to mine.”

Overwhelmed and a little indignant at Draco’s manhandling of her, Hermione cried frustrated tears into his warm chest. She was a grown woman for crying out loud, what gave him the right to decide where she slept, especially when she had finally been about to fall asleep? “You bastard,” she cursed under her breath.

“Now I know you don’t mean that,” he said cockily, feeling Hermione’s body relax into his as they made it outside, away from the wards of her home. “Besides, you’ll thank me in the morning.” 

Concentrating on the living area of his cottage, Draco Disapparated them both, wasting no time as he carried Hermione up to his room and ensconced her safely in his bed. Hermione wriggled beneath his sheets, making herself comfortable, Draco watched for a moment as she relaxed and began breathing softly, intrigued when a subtle bit of colour returned to her cheeks. Closing the door behind him, Draco made a mental note of the change, deciding to ask Hermione if he could see the work Healer with her at her next appointment. In the meantime, Draco wanted Hermione at his for as long as possible. 

*

Sitting down at the quaint table in Draco’s kitchen, Hermione picked up an apple, nibbling it slowly as she looked around. The first morning she had woken up at Draco’s had been confusing, but that had been four days ago now. They had now established a strange, little routine, and Hermione wasn’t looking to break it anytime soon. She wanted to be staying at home, but she couldn’t deny she felt better sleeping at Draco’s.

Allowing her stubbornness to win every night, Hermione went straight home from the Ministry, only to find Draco was already there cooking a meal for them to share. Finding herself unable to scold him, Hermione would shower and then attempt to eat whatever he had cooked. Inevitably, she would end up heaving her guts out before crawling into bed. Sometime later, Draco would appear, just as she was on the cusp of sleep, and carry her away to his. 

Each morning, Hermione would wake at Draco’s, feeling better than the day before. Draco was never in the bed when she woke, but she could tell he’d been there recently. Usually, she would find Draco cooking breakfast or reading the morning  _ Prophet _ at the table. This morning, however, was different. Draco had left for work early as he was taking time out to attend Hermione’s healer appointment that afternoon. Whilst Hermione wasn’t entirely happy about it, Draco had insisted, and she hoped it would get him off her back about the sickness.

Pondering the day ahead, Hermione looked down at her stomach. There was now a slight curve where her stomach had once been flat. Draco assured her she was the only one who could see the change, but on days like today, Hermione doubted him. So much had changed in such a short time, sometimes Hermione struggled to believe it was all really happening. Yet, she still found herself rambling to her stomach when she was alone. 

“We’ve got a busy day haven’t we, little flicker?” Hermione muttered, thinking of her meeting with her supervisor to present her findings, then after lunch was the body scan with Draco, followed by a meeting with her lawyer to start the divorce proceedings. Feeling resigned to a long and tedious day, Hermione finished her apple and stood. “Come on then, let’s go get ready.”

Luckily for Hermione, her morning meeting flew by. Her supervisor was pleased with her work and gave her permission to use the Auror department to further her research. Eating lunch at her desk, Hermione wondered which direction to take her research next. Her musings were disrupted when she looked up to find Draco’s steady grey eyes watching her intently. “Yes?” Hermione questioned as she stood from her seat, going to meet Draco at the door. 

“I was just enjoying seeing you eating,” Draco said casually, observing how she seemed to have so much more energy. “Feeling ok?” he asked as they left her office.

“Fine, thank you,” Hermione replied primly as she rolled her eyes. Over the last few days, it seemed all she heard from Draco was variations of ‘Are you ok?’

“Ok,” Draco acknowledged curtly. The last few days had been a little tense and he sensed Hermione was still not overly impressed with him. Draco shut his mouth, not wanting to give her any reason to exclude him from the Healer meeting. 

Annoyed by Draco’s silence, Hermione led the way through the Department of Mysteries, pausing only to knock on the door briefly before pushing it open. 

“Hermione,” Healer Norton greeted her warmly before turning to Draco. “Hello, Mr Malfoy. Hermione informed me you would be with us today.”

“Nice to meet you, Healer Norton,” Draco responded swiftly, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Shall we begin?”Healer Norton asked as she began moving further into her office, giving them more space. 

“Yes, please,” Hermione replied promptly, making her way to the back of the office with Healer Norton. When Draco moved to follow, Hermione turned. “No Draco, you stay there,” she said brusquely.

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, Draco turned to take a seat in front of Healer Norton’s tidy desk, listening to the two women talking faintly in the background for a moment before his mind wandered. In the last few days, Draco had found himself finishing work earlier so he could be at Hermione’s that little bit earlier to start dinner. The sooner she ate, threw up and went to bed, the sooner he was able to whisk her away to his. Although she was barely talking to him and spent most of their time together asleep, Draco enjoyed having her at his cottage. It felt right. It felt more like home than it ever had before.

Hearing footsteps, Draco turned to look over his shoulder and saw Hermione and Healer Norton approaching. Draco pressed his lips together and sat quietly as they both sat down.

“Well then, Hermione,” Healer Norton began happily, reading through her notes. “The body scans look good and everything is functioning as it should. Your body seems to be adjusting well. The power within your magical core has increased again slightly, but that is nothing to worry about as we discussed previously. Do you have any questions or concerns?”

“No, not really,” Hermione said smiling back at Healer Norton, hoping if they kept the conversation quick Draco wouldn’t be able to interrupt as she expected him too. 

That hope was snuffed out easily when Draco quickly asked, “Have you told her about the sickness?” Hermione glared as she turned to look at Draco before quickly turning back to Healer Norton. 

“No,” Hermione bit out as she dug her nails into her palm. “It was just a bug, I’m getting better now.”

“Merlin, Hermione, must you be so stubborn?” Draco replied, irritated by her insistence that it was nothing.

Draco looked directly at Healer Norton. “Hermione hasn’t been right since she found out she was pregnant, but it was particularly bad last week…”

“It was not, Draco!” Hermione disputed hotly, annoyed that he was talking directly to  _ her  _ Healer. Crossing her arms over her chest Hermione glared at Draco, her brain supplying her with a quick excuse to throw back at him. “Every woman gets some form of morning sickness when they are pregnant! Just because mine is all day, doesn’t make it different.”

“Hermione,” Draco said slowly, trying to calm himself down and not further agitate her. “After you left Harry’s, you barely slept or ate for four days. Within minutes of me taking you out of that cave, you got your colour back, and every day since that point, you’ve improved because I’ve taken you back to mine. It would be irresponsible of me to not mention it.” 

Looking away from Hermione’s death stare, Draco ran his fingers through his hair, debating how much he could say. He didn’t want Hermione to feel like he was always watching her, even though he was, but she needed to understand where his concern was coming from. Turning in his chair to face her, Draco softened his voice and spoke directly to Hermione, watching as her shoulders tensed slightly. “You may not have noticed how ill you were but I sure did.”

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms, refusing to look at Draco as Healer Norton asked, “How much time were you spending at the cave last week in comparison to this week?”

“I’ve lived there since taking the assignment,” Hermione replied quickly so Draco didn’t have another opportunity to speak. “Last week I was still spending a lot of time there until Draco started taking me to his. Now we just seem to eat there and leave.”

“Hmm,” Healer Norton murmured as she flicked through her notes again. “Those symptoms would agree with your estimated date. The sickness usually kicks in around six weeks and can last up until the thirteenth or fourteenth week. It is interesting that you seem to be worse when spending more time in the cave. Hermione, I would like you to keep a journal detailing your symptoms and how long you are spending there.”

“That’s it?” Draco asked incensed, his gaze turning from the floor to Healer Norton. “You can’t seriously be telling me it’s  _ normal _ for someone to be that sick? She was so weak!” Draco turned to Hermione, hoping she could appreciate where he was coming from. “I didn’t know what to do...” he trailed off as he got stern looks from both women. 

“Mr Malfoy,” Healer Norton said, all traces of the happy woman from earlier gone. “Some women get such severe morning sickness they have to be prescribed potions. This can last for the entirety of the pregnancy. However, Hermione, I would advise you not to spend as much time there if you are already feeling unwell. The ancient magic may be making your symptoms worse.”

“Thank you,” Draco said politely, somewhat appeased by the Healers request that Hermione not spend as much time there.

“Yes, thank you, Healer Horton,” Hermione replied rather sullenly, knowing it was going to be even harder to get Draco to agree to her going home. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with my lawyer,” Hermione said, standing to leave.

“Of course,” Healer Norton replied, moving to let Hermione out. “I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Good luck,” Draco called at Hermione’s retreating form. Saying a final goodbye to Healer Norton, Draco left the Ministry and headed home to catch up on some much-neglected paperwork before their customary routine would begin once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy :) Alpha love to tectonictigress & TirDogMom as always!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey :) so this is kinda a big chapter and posting it has scared me a little! But it's here.  
> Many thanks as always to tectonictogress for being the original Alpha & to TriDogMom for her endless encouragement and listening to me babble on about how to make the story better.

Hermione was dreaming, her body tossing and turning restlessly as her mind struggled to relax. There was a dull mounting pain above her right eye and every time she managed to settle into a slumber, she was awoken a short time later feeling nauseous.

Pushing her face into the depths of Draco’s fluffy pillows, Hermione tried again to settle to sleep. She knew in the back of her mind she could just get up and take a pain potion but didn’t have the energy to move from beneath the duvet.

Drifting again between unconsciousness and consciousness, Hermione saw Ron’s face; his smile as he read his acceptance letter into the Auror training programme, the pride on his face as she tearfully watched him place her engagement ring upon her finger, and the joy as they recited their wedding vows beneath the beaming sun in the garden of The Burrow.

All too soon for Hermione’s liking those images that used to bring her peace, morphed into memories of pain, accentuated by a sharp stabbing in her temple where the dull ache had begun. Unhappy moments from the last year stung Hermione’s psyche, each more painful than the last. Ron yelling about how much time she spent at work; flash after flash of Ron’s grin— usually reserved for her— becoming present every time he spoke of Olivia; their embrace at the Memorial Gala where Ron’s hand lingered in the small of Olivia’s back; and the night of her promotion— the night of the argument that led to their separation where Ron came home the following morning and confessed he had stayed at  _ her _ house all night.

Desperate for some kind of solace, Hermione tried to turn her memories away from Ron, hoping that perhaps, if she thought of Draco, she would be able to chase the pain away. However, even thoughts of Draco weren’t strong enough to soothe her frazzled mind. Sometime later Hermione found herself awake gasping for breath as her head madly throbbed.

Perhaps this was her penance for sleeping with Draco during the separation? Hermione thought as she rolled over and tried to get comfortable again, maybe she deserved this pain? It would be easy to rouse Draco and ask for a pain potion but the voice in her head told her not to. She had created this mess and she needed to find a way out of it. 

Closing her eyes again, Hermione tried to focus, she needed to find a way back to the happy smiling Ron. In the back of her mind she was aware Ron had left her— that he no longer wanted to be her husband— but that fact didn’t change the mission her subconscious mind was on. To get rid of the pain, she needed to get back to happy Ron. 

For hours Hermione tossed and turned, her mind eventually coming to the conclusion that there was no way back to the happy Ron she was seeing. He was gone. Their relationship was over. As the realisation struck her, strong arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her into a warm embrace. Draco, disturbed by her chaotic movements and assuming it was one of her usual nightmares, had reached out and cocooned her in his arms, offering her the solace she desperately needed to find sleep at last. 

What felt like minutes later, when in actuality it was three hours later, Hermione was roused by Draco gently shaking her as he whispered into her ear, “Hermione, you've got to get up.”

“I don't want to,” Hermione whined into the pillows, squeezing her eyes shut as she pulled the duvet more securely around herself. She felt confused, her dreams bleeding into her waking mind and whilst she was content snuggled in Draco’s bed— his hands smoothing her hair from her head— she couldn’t shake the pain of losing Ron. Everything had gotten out of control so quickly.

“What's the matter?” Draco asked softly, lying back against his headboard so he could run his fingers through her hair. He remembered pulling her petite body to his during the night after being kicked in the shin yet, when he had woken this morning she had been sleeping soundly beside him. Looking at her now in the morning sun, Draco could see pain etched into her features and dark circles beneath her eyes as she tried to turn away from the brightness and burrow into the pillows.

“My head hurts, it’s making me feel sick,” Hermione said grumpily, abandoning her effort to nuzzle into the depths of the pillows in favour of snuggling into Draco’s side. Her arm snaking around his waist to pull herself closer as her brain reminded her that after he had snuggled her during the night, she had finally dropped off into a dreamless sleep. “I went to sleep thinking about the divorce and then I dreamt about…” Hermione paused, not wanting to admit she had dreamt specifically of Ron nor having the energy to properly explain a dream she didn’t really understand. “Everything,” Hermione settled, stifling a yawn so she could continue, “did you know it can take months for the divorce to go through and even then the marriage bonds have to be broken to complete the divorce?”

“I didn't know that. I'm sorry it's going to take so long,” Draco replied soothingly as Hermione nuzzled in deeper. “Do you want me to owl the office? Tell them you're not going in?”

Hermione sighed deeply, the offer was so tempting. “No,” Hermione answered sadly, thinking of all the work she had to do. “I'll get up in a minute.”

“Did the lawyer tell you much else?” Draco asked, scooting himself down so he could pull Hermione properly against him, his hand moving in slow steady circles against her lower back.

Scooting herself closer to Draco’s prone body, she nestled her head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her ear as she relaxed into him and spoke slowly. “Ron and I are to divide up the marital assets, sign the paperwork and then agree on a time and place to break the bonds with a Ministry official,” Hermione answered, yawning deeply. The hand on her back was reliving the tension within her body and she felt herself growing heavy with sleep. “Those marriage bonds are dangerous,” she added sleepily, moving closer to him and hooking a leg over one of his. 

“Yes, they are, Granger,” Draco replied thoughtfully. 

From what his parents had told him, the marriage bonds tied you to your spouse. The strength of that tie varied person to person but reflected the love they had for one another at the time the bond was made. The danger of breaking the bonds was the main reason divorce rates were so low in the wizarding world, not many people wanted to go through the painful process, so most worked through their issues or came to some other arrangement. 

Draco’s train of thought was interrupted by a soft snore from Hermione. Smiling to himself, Draco reached for his wand. He summoned over a piece of parchment and dictated his message before banishing it with a flick of his wand. Now the office knew not to expect Hermione, he could snuggle down with her. He would catch up with Blaise later. 

Now on eye level with Hermione— not that hers were open— Draco took the time to study her face. It had been so long since Draco had been able to just look at her. Hermione’s long lashes rested delicately against her cheeks. This close, Draco could see the faint smattering of freckles trailing across her nose and under her eyes. Gods, he loved her eyes. Draco could get lost staring into their warm, open depths. 

Breathing in her scent, Draco’s gaze moved to Hermione’s slightly parted lips as she breathed deeply. Draco’s lips tingled as he recalled the last time they kissed. It had been all-consuming and raw, driven by their desires alone. Draco ached to do it again. Closing his eyes, Draco allowed the memories to wash over him. It wasn’t often Draco thought of their night together, but having Hermione wrapped around him and feeling the slight curve of her stomach against his side, where his potential child rested in her womb, Draco indulged. 

_ His heart was pounding and his mouth was dry as his mind reeled from having just kissed Hermione. The moment was surreal and Draco could tell they were far from done. As he licked his lips, searching for her taste— he was almost certain he could taste salted caramel on his tongue— Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer. Her grip in his hair bringing him back to the here and now. _

_ The energy in the cave was tangible. Magic danced across their skin, drawing them together like a moth to a flame and Draco was loathe to try and resist the pull he felt towards Hermione. With her legs now securely locked around him, Draco’s hands were free to roam. Releasing his firm grasp upon her hips, one hand smoothed it’s way up to her waist; tracing small circles upon her bare skin as the other trailed up her back and into her hair, grabbing a fistful of her riotous curls before he nipped and sucked at Hermione’s lower lip. _

_ Feeling her body ripple with pleasure as she surrendered herself to his touch, Draco had to remind himself to savour the moment. It was no good to get caught up in his head and have the experience end prematurely because he couldn’t control his desires. However, having a scantily clad Hermione writhing against him, responding to his every touch was proving to be quite stimulating.  _

_ Draco was promptly jerked out of his trance by a jolt of pain to his lower lip. Blinking rapidly as a moan escaped his mouth he realised that Hermione had mirrored his biting and was now sucking on said lip. Peering over Hermione’s shoulder as she continued to bite, suck and kiss his lips, Draco searched for something to pin her to. His hands were itching to explore every delicious curve of her body and learn exactly what drove her wild. _

_ Spying a smooth expanse of rock, Draco surged through the water and pressed Hermione back into it, smirking when her eyes popped open at the sudden temperature change. Seizing the opportunity, Draco pushed himself against her, effectively pinning her in place with his hips as he returned his lips to hers and kissed her deeply, earning himself a low moan of satisfaction as he did so. With her body now firmly held in place by his, and their tongues sparring for dominance, Draco’s hands moved to continue his exploration of her body.  _

_ Every inch had to be touched, every curve cherished and committed to memory before the evening was over and it was a challenge Draco was very much looking forward to. He needed to learn her,  _ intimately _ , so he could perfect the art of bringing her undone, so he could know when she screamed his name later in the height of their passion that he had earned every whimper and every moan. His journey began as his hand moved from the dip of her waist, up, to the swell of her breast, palming it gently through the wet fabric of her bikini top. As Hermione shuddered and grinded down against him, Draco grazed his nails just beneath the fabric against her ribs, teasing lightly under the material before cupping her breast fully again and caressing her firm nipple with the pad of his thumb.  _

_ Hermione rolled her hips against Draco’s and he felt his cock twitch in response to her brazen action. He was already painfully hard and her action had brought friction where he desperately craved it. Keeping one hand massaging her breast, Draco released the other from her hair and tickled his way down across her back to grip on her hip so he could thrust against her each time she ground down against him. _

_ Bringing their bodies together was sweet ecstasy. As Draco rutted against Hermione he felt her nails rake down his back, the power of her hold breaking the skin. The anticipation of there being nothing between them was tantalising, driving Draco to hold Hermione tighter, kiss her harder. _

“Draco,” Hermione said quietly, still half asleep herself as she looked at Draco’s peaceful face. “Draco, wake up, we’ve overslept.”

Opening his eyes slowly Draco jumped, his heart pounding at finding himself nose to nose with Hermione. “Merlin, Hermione!” He said, using his free hand to pat his chest. “You scared me.”

“You let me oversleep!” Hermione countered quickly, smirking as a pink blush crept across Draco’s cheeks.

“Yes, I did,” Draco replied, slowly coming to his senses and realising the excitement he felt in his dream had transitioned into wakefulness. Conscious of the way Hermione was pressed against him, her leg dangerously close to his engorged appendage, Draco hastily rearranged himself around Hermione and held her tightly, not wanting her to see his current predicament nor the blush staining his cheeks. “You needed it,” he mumbled into her hair, trying to calm himself, “and I let your boss know, so relax. How are you feeling, anyway?”

“Much better,” Hermione said earnestly, thinking nothing of Draco’s behaviour and feeling as if the extra sleep had done her the world of good. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco responded, carefully moving so he was slightly more comfortable.

Running her fingers across Draco’s chest, Hermione spoke again, “I was thinking actually…” she began before pausing, her fingers tapping against Draco’s sternum as she pondered how to word her request.

“Yes?” Draco inquired, not bothering to keep the curiosity out of his tone as he looked down at her, wondering what had her struggling to put a sentence together. 

“I was thinking about the scan,” Hermione started nervously biting her lip. “I think I want to know, sooner rather than later, who the father is. I don’t want all three of us to be in the dark. If it’s Ron’s, I want to be able to make a plan so we can discuss it with the lawyer.”

“Hermione,” Draco said, his hand coming to rest at her hip so he could look at her fully. This felt like an important moment, one that needed consideration, as Draco spoke he carefully weighed each word before they passed his lips. “I am with you 100% of the way. You want the scan today, we have it today. You want me to go, I’ll go. You want me to stay, I’ll stay. I’m right here, every step of the way, I promise you. I’m with you and the baby.”

Tears welled in Hermione’s eyes, Draco’s dedication, not only to her, but to her baby astounded her. Totally lost for words, Hermione nodded into his chest, trying and failing miserably to hold her tears back. Sniffling into another one of his jumpers, Hermione felt Draco’s warm hand rubbing consoling circles on her back until she drifted off to sleep again.

* * *

The following Friday, Hermione found herself in Healer Bradstone’s office with her stomach on show as Draco stood beside her holding her hand. Looking down where her once flat stomach had been, Hermione studied the slight curve as Healer Bradstone traced the same complicated wand movements as before. After a few minutes, Healer Bradstone stood back to assess the apparition now hovering above Hermione’s stomach, jotting down various bits of information before looking up happily at the pair. 

“So,” Healer Bradstone said, clapping her hands together, “looking at the size of the fetus, gestational sac and the cardiac activity, I would say you are a very healthy ten weeks pregnant. This is your baby right here,” Healer Bradstone explained, pointing to the tiny image above Hermione. “This is the head,” she continued, circling the larger solid gold area as it shone against the pale gold background. “This is the rest of the body, and here’s a little hand and a little foot!” Healer Bradstone finished, tracing the curve of the baby’s spine with her pinky, pointing out the tiny flicks for hands and feet. 

Hermione gasped and gripped Draco’s hand tighter, trying very quickly to do the maths in her head. Her concentration was broken by Draco’s cracked voice asking, “Does that mean I’m the Father?” The words hung in the air between them as they waited with bated breath for Healer Bradstone’s answer.

“As the date coincides with the date you had intercourse there is a higher chance that you are the Father, Mr Malfoy.” Healer Bradstone said seriously. “However, as Hermione was still using the potion at the time and scans can be wrong there is still the chance that you are not.” 

Hermione felt her heart stop momentarily.  _ There is a higher chance. _ Her brain repeated, over and over again. But the question was, did she want it to be Draco’s? There was a small part of her that was relieved, having a child with Ron was not part of her plan. Then again, having a baby with Draco certainly wasn’t either. Subconsciously, her grip tightened on Draco’s hand and he looked at her in surprise with a small smile. It was at that moment, Hermione realised there was still the option of a paternity test to give them answers. 

“Ok,” Draco replied as he moved closer to study the image, fascinated to be able to see the tiny person growing inside of Hermione. His heart beat erratically as he thought of how that tiny person  _ could _ be his,  _ theirs _ . Was he ready for this? Could he really be someone’s father? As much as he was excited to be with Hermione throughout this, he was also terrified. Seeking some reassurance, Draco looked away momentarily and smiled at Hermione before turning and asking, “What’s this area here?” pointing to a smaller golden circle which sat just next to the baby’s head. 

Puzzled, Hermione tried to sit up a bit straighter so she could see what Draco was pointing at, her brows creasing together as she tried to figure it out. 

“I don’t believe it,” Healer Bradstone muttered as she drew closer to the pair, pulling her wand out to dim the lights further and cast another spell.

“You don’t believe what?” Hermione asked, panicking as the Healer stayed silent, her hand grasping Draco’s even tighter. 

“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong with the baby?” Draco demanded as his stomach fluttered. The whole point of Hermione having regular scans at work was to ensure the cave didn’t have any adverse effects to her health. If that Healer had missed something, and his potential child was now in danger, there would be hell to pay. 

“No,” Healer Bradstone answered softly as the sound of a heartbeat filled the room, freezing Hermione and Draco in place. “This is your baby's heartbeat and if you listen carefully, there is a second one.”

Draco’s jaw dropped as he stood listening to what was quickly becoming two very defined heartbeats. Surely Healer Bradstone  _ couldn’t _ be telling them Hermione was carrying twins? They were so rare. Despite being the one to question the second, smaller golden circle, Draco couldn’t believe it, there was no way Hermione was having twins. It couldn’t be happening. There had never been twins in the Malfoy line,  _ ever _ , but the Weasley line? He didn't know anything about their bloodline except they bred like rabbits and Molly  _ bloody _ Weasley had twin sons.

“Are you sure?” Hermione questioned quietly, bringing Draco back to the here and now. “Is that not my heartbeat?” Unsure of how she felt, Hermione did the only thing she knew how to do, ask questions. 

“You’re having twins, Hermione,” Healer Bradstone confirmed with a smile, leaning forward to point at the smaller circle Draco had noticed. “If you’ll watch here as I rotate the image, you’ll see this is the top of the other babies head. I’m sorry I didn’t notice it, twins are so rare in the magical world.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” Hermione mumbled as she looked at the image before her. The world seemed to have stopped turning as Hermione sat there, staring at the apparition. Part of her was aware that she was probably squeezing Draco’s hand a bit too hard, but she couldn’t feel it, it was outside of her body. The revelation of twins didn’t seem real, she couldn’t be carrying twins. She was barely prepared to deal with one baby, but two!? That was a whole different concept to get her head around. 

“That’s ok,” Healer Bradstone replied, hoping to reassure the future mother. “It’s a lot to take in and can take some time to adjust to so don’t worry. Would you like a picture?”

Bemused, Hermione managed to get a, “Yes please,” out before lying back fully on the examination table to close her eyes. She was going to have twins, twins! Did this mean the babies were Ron’s? “Actually, I do have one question.” Hermione began, biting her lip as Healer Bradstone turned back to her, the sonogram picture in hand. “Do twins carry in the paternal line? Or the maternal line? My um, husband, has a history of twins in his family.”

Sensing her patient’s discomfort, Healer Bradstone belatedly realised why the news of twins would serve as such a shock, with the uncertainty of the babies father, twins in the paternal line would be a strong indication of the paternity. “It’s all to do with the mother,” she answered softly, watching some of the tension vanish from Hermione’s face, “the father has no impact, so to speak. Do you have a history of twins, Hermione?”

Hermione pondered it for a minute before shaking her head, as far as she knew there were no twins in the Granger line.

“How interesting,” Healer Bradstone pondered before turning to Draco who had been awfully quiet since his discovery. “Mr Malfoy,” Healer Bradstone asked, making Draco snap his bewildered eyes to hers. “Do you need a glass of water?”

It was then Draco realised he’d been silent the entire time, he swallowed, trying to wet the dry desert that was now his throat before coughing to clear it before answering, “No— thank you.” Maybe he was still in with a chance to be a father to Hermione’s baby—  _ babies _ — after all.

“Now,” Healer Bradstone spoke again, looking at both of them to check they were paying attention. “As you are both aware, there is a test we can do at ten weeks to confirm the paternity. I made the appointment long enough to do this today if you require.”

Hermione sat up and looked at Draco, his face working hard to conceal his conflicting emotions. “How do you do this test?” Hermione asked delicately, sensing that Draco wasn’t going to push her either way. 

“It’s relatively simple and safer than the Muggle alternative, however, it does come with some risks,” Healer Bradstone spoke clearly, making sure both Hermione and Draco were following her every word. “I take a sample of the placental tissue through your abdominal wall, then analyse the DNA in that sample with samples from yourself and Mr Malfoy. At conception, the DNA from the fetus is randomly derived of equal amounts from the mother and father, so if you’re both equally represented in the fetus’s DNA, then Mr Malfoy is the father.”

“Is that where the risk is?” Hermione questioned, propping herself up on her elbows as Draco leaned in to listen carefully. “Withdrawing the tissue from the placental wall?”

“Yes,” Hermione Bradstone answered simply. “Taking tissue from there could cause you to miscarry. The chances are lower in the wizarding world, but they are still there.”

“Absolutely not,” Draco said quickly, thinking only of how Hermione could be carrying two of his children. 

Hermione shook her head. “No, I’m not comfortable with that.”

“I understand,” Healer Bradstone said consolingly, passing them a leaflet. “It’s a lot to take in. Here, take this for reference in case you wish to discuss it later.” 

“Thank you, Healer Bradstone,” Hermione replied, passing the leaflet to Draco for safe keeping.

Healer Bradstone removed the enchantment on Hermione’s stomach and spoke to the couple. “Since you’re carrying twins, I will need to see a lot more of you. I’ll be prescribing you extra potions to ensure you and the babies get all the vitamins needed, and you will need to make sure you don’t overdo it. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“I’m sure there is,” Hermione answered quietly, struggling to absorb all the information. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

“That’s understandable, we’ve discovered a lot today,” Healer Bradstone said soothingly. “Right now, I have no concerns, just keep yourself and the babies healthy and we’ll be fine. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Yes, thank you. We’ll be in touch Healer Bradstone,” Draco nodded curtly, reaching out to take Hermione’s hand as she stood slowly, pulling her t-shirt back down across her stomach and re-adjusting the waistband of her jeans.

“Any questions or concerns, night or day, you know how to reach me,” Healer Bradstone replied as she showed Hermione and Draco from her office. 

“Thank you,” Hermione said again as Draco nodded, his eyes guarded. Hermione felt his hand slip around her waist and hold her tightly as he led them from the office and onto the street.

“Are you ok?” Draco asked Hermione in a low voice as they walked slowly, dodging the other pedestrians. His mind was reeling. Since he had found out about Hermione’s pregnancy, he had been researching little bits and pieces to help him prepare, just in case. But he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, so had kept it to the immediate stuff, like how to help her deal with morning sickness. Now, however, there was a higher chance that he was the father to not one, but two babies. Two! The neurons in his brain seemed to keep misfiring every time he came back to the fact that Hermione was expecting twins. 

“Yeah,” Hermione muttered, her eyes vacant as they walked. “I’m just in shock, I think.” If it wasn’t for Draco holding her up, Hermione was sure she would have stumbled by now. Every step felt heavy and disjointed, much like every thought in her mind. Her breath was coming in short, uneven gasps and she struggled to put a more coherent sentence together. There was a small part of her that was thrilled that Draco had the higher chance, but how on earth could they do this? They weren’t even a couple! They were friends that slept together. Just that one time. Hermione swallowed the sigh that threatened to escape her lips and started rubbing her palm up and down her forearm as they walked. 

“I am too,” Draco said softly, his hands holding Hermione lightly by the shoulders so he could turn her and look into her bewildered eyes. “I’ll take that higher chance though.” 

Feeling light on his feet, Draco planted a chaste kiss on Hermione’s cheek, smiling as she focused in on him. In that moment Draco could see everything he wanted; Hermione barefoot and pregnant again, their blonde haired twins racing back inside after playing in the meadow of their family home, endless days and nights full of laughter and love… but no, he couldn’t get his hopes up, it wouldn’t do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. Draco shook his head, clearing the image before snaking his arm back around Hermione’s waist. Giving her a reassuring squeeze, Draco gave her what he was sure was a soppy smile before leading them both down the road for a spot of dinner at his favourite restaurant. 


	10. Chapter 10

“You’re certainly looking better,” Harry commented as Hermione wolfed down the salad in front of her. At Harry’s suggestion, they had popped into Muggle London, frequenting their favourite cafe to avoid any prying eyes.

Hermione grinned up at him. Lunch out of the office had been Harry’s idea and she was eternally grateful, having grown bored of the mediocre food they offered in the Ministry. “Yup,” Hermione said between two mouthfuls. “Now the sickness is easing off, my appetite has come back.”

“I’m glad,” Harry replied, taking a bite of his own sandwich. With his elbows resting on the solid wood table top, Harry covertly looked around the cafe before asking, “does Draco still make you stay at his?”

“Eurgh, yes,” Hermione responded with a roll of her eyes, her fork spearing a tomato with more force than strictly necessary. “It’s not even worth trying to argue. He just waits until I fall asleep and takes me anyway. On the plus side, his bed is much comfier than mine.”

“You’re sharing his bed?” Harry questioned, the words tumbling from his mouth with no filter as his eyes bugged out of their sockets. At Hermione’s look of horror, Harry quickly turned to the people sitting a few tables away and muttered a quick apology for his outburst.

Realising her mistake, Hermione shuffled her chair closer to the table whilst mentally scolding herself before answering quietly. “Yes, but it’s not like that.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow, inviting Hermione to continue as he mimicked her posture. As a blush rose upon her cheeks, Hermione leaned forward to keep her words away from the waiter who was loitering nearby. “We just sleep, Harry. It’s just like when we used to share on the run.”

“Hermione,” Harry said sincerely, looking very quickly at the busy street behind her. “You and Draco sharing a bed is nothing like you and I sharing a bed. We’re like brother and sister. The relationship you have with Draco is something else, something different.” 

Hermione shifted in her chair, staring down at a knot in the wood of the table as she refused to meet Harry’s questioning eyes. Yes, her relationship with Draco was like nothing she had ever had before. But did that make it a bad thing?

“Hermione,” Harry spoke calmly reaching out to take one of her hands. “I know I’ve asked you before, but I can’t not ask again. Do you have feelings for Draco?”

Hermione looked up so fast it made her head spin and stared into Harry’s green eyes, waiting for him to back down from his question. When he didn’t, Hermione realised she was going to have to answer. “I don’t know, Harry. I never used to think of him as anything other than Draco, but now… now he’s like… it’s difficult to explain.”

“Why is it difficult?” Harry asked thoughtfully, remembering his own burgeoning feelings for Ginny and how he had never doubted that she was the one for him, it had felt so natural he couldn’t imagine being unclear of his feelings for her. Seeing Hermione, who was usually so coherent and eloquent, looking lost for words was almost funny, had it not been for the mounting frustration Harry could see building in Hermione’s face he might have laughed. 

“Because it is Harry!” Hermione cried, releasing her hand from his and slumping back in her chair. Ever since her dream come nightmare, Hermione had been struggling to reconcile her thoughts and emotions regarding both Ron and Draco.“Six months ago, I was happily married to the apparent love of my life. Now, I’m getting divorced. Two months ago, I wasn’t even thinking about children, and now, I’m pregnant.” Hermione paused, her chest heaving as she debated telling Harry about the twins. Deciding now wasn’t the time, she simply asked, “what about this is easy?”

Harry moved to sit in the empty seat next to his best friend and hugged her. “I never said this was easy, Hermione,” Harry said softly, smiling at the owner behind the till. “Far from it. Just think about it, ok? I think Draco’s mad for you.”

Hermione sighed deeply, resting her head on Harry’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to do, Harry,” Hermione confessed. “Draco is so amazing, I can’t imagine not spending time with him. He makes me happy and I like to think I make him happy too. This situation is so unusual, I just don’t know what to do.”

“Just be, then, Hermione,” Harry responded delicately. “Right now, and always, you need to be happy. If you are happy spending time with Draco, then spend time with him. I’ll stop asking how you feel, just remember I’m here.”

“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione sighed, thankful for his promise not to push the issue, when she suddenly remembered why she had been so keen to meet Harry. “Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, her hands fluttering in front of her. “I’m throwing a little gathering for Draco’s birthday, will you and Ginny come? I’ve already spoken to Blaise, Daphne and Theo so they’ll be there. It’s tomorrow. I was thinking around six? Draco always arrives for dinner around six.”

“I’m sure we can be there,” Harry replied promptly, smiling as a grin lit up Hermione’s face. “I’ll owl you later to confirm.”

“Perfect,” Hermione said, smiling and looking at the clock behind Harry’s shoulder. “I guess we had better head back to the office?”

“Come along then, my lady” Harry joked, pulling a Muggle twenty pound note and leaving it on the table, waving to the owner as he ushered Hermione out through the door. 

* * *

Butterflies fluttered restlessly in Hermione’s stomach. Tonight was Draco’s birthday, and Hermione was getting ready to surprise him by hosting a bunch of Slytherins in her home. Hermione knew he didn’t want a fuss, but she wanted to say thank you— somehow— for everything he’d done for her. 

Hermione felt self-conscious as she looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing her favourite red dress from Bill and Fleur’s wedding, which was now a bit tight around her chest and waist. Hermione knew there was no way anyone would be able to tell she was carrying twins, but she hoped Harry and Ginny arrived first; she wasn’t ready to tell them yet, but they would help her feel calmer.

Just as she was about to dig out a looser dress, her ward bell rang. Breathing in deeply, Hermione ran her anxious hands over her dress and attempted to hoist the neckline higher. Grumbling to herself when it didn’t budge, Hermione reached out with her magic and recognised Harry alone at the door. 

Hermione lowered the wards so he could enter and turned away from the mirror, hurrying to greet her guest. She met Harry just inside the entrance and was promptly pulled into a bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Harry, where’s Ginny?” she asked as Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet. 

“She’s umm…” Harry stopped, spinning on his foot to look out into the forest. Something was crashing around not far from them. 

Harry and Hermione stood still and listened as the sound drew closer. Harry slowly raised his wand and moved in front of Hermione, relaxing slightly when a male voice carried back to them. “Why does she have to live in the middle of a god damned forest!”

Raising a questioning eyebrow, Harry looked at Hermione as she slapped her hand to her head. “I didn’t tell them how to find us, just which forest to Apparate to.” 

Harry stepped forward, wand still raised— he wasn’t Head Auror for nothing— and called out, “Who’s there?” causing the people stumbling in the forest to freeze. 

“Potter?” a different voice called back. “Where the hell are you? We’ve been stumbling around out here for bloody ages!”

Smirking, Harry lit his wand and walked into the forest, finding himself three very irritable looking Slytherins. “Zabini, Nott, Daphne, nice to see you all,” Harry greeted calmly, leading the way back to Hermione, who looked awfully embarrassed. 

“Can anyone tell me why Granger lives in the bloody woods?” Theo grumbled as a tree branch slapped him in the face, making Hermione laugh. Quick as a flash, Theo’s head snapped up, his eyes greedily roving over Hermione’s body as his attitude quickly shifted. “Whoa, Granger, don’t you look delightful.”

Before Hermione could muster a response, Daphne slapped the back of Theo’s head. “For Merlin’s sake, Theo!” she said sternly, her face set into a scowl. “You know what Draco is like, he’d kill you if he heard that.” As Theo grumbled under his breath, Daphne turned, her face smoothing out. “Hermione, hello, it’s so nice to meet you. I apologise for Theo.”

Hermione smiled back at Daphne and greeted her guests, allowing them through the wards. “It’s nice to meet you too, Daphne. Theo, Blaise, it’s good to see you again.”

“Right back at you, Hermione. You’re looking well,” Blaise said smoothly as they followed Hermione and Harry into the living room, his eyes widening as he spied the waterfall through the floor to ceiling windows. “Interesting place you have here. Draco’s descriptions haven’t done it justice.”

“Yea,” Theo said looking around the room, his jaw slack as he took in all the little details surrounding him. “How come you live in a cave? In the middle of the woods?”

“Thank you, Blaise,” Hermione responded before turning to Theo to answer his question. “It's an assignment from work.” Hermione turned to look at Harry before asking the group as a whole, “Drink, anyone?”

After organising the drinks, Hermione perched on the sofa next to Harry, anxiously awaiting Draco's arrival. “So,” Hermione began nervously, her eyes darting between the group in front of her, “what have you all been up to since Hogwarts?”

Theo yawned theatrically and stretched his arms out. “Boringggg,” he drawled, leaning forward toward Hermione with a devilish smile.  Draco had been tight lipped about the situation with Granger but Theo wasn't about to let the opportunity to watch her squirm go to waste. “Why don’t you tell us if that’s Draco’s baby? Everyone is dying to know.”

Nausea rolled in Hermione’s stomach as her back stiffened. This had been a bad idea. Why did she think the Slytherins could play nice? Before Hermione could come back with a witty retort, a different voice answered Theo’s question.

“Because she doesn’t know, Nott,” Draco said sternly as everyone whipped their heads round to look at him, he knew letting slip about Hermione’s baby at work would come back and bite him in the ass. His eyes immediately found Hermione’s as she looked up at him in surprise. 

“Draco!” Blaise shouted standing up quickly to put himself between Draco and Theo, just in case. “Happy Birthday!”

Draco looked at Blaise, then back at Hermione before looking at the rest of the guests assembled before him, his bag of takeout hanging limply in his hand. If he hadn’t been so riled by Theo’s comment, he might have been slightly touched to see his friends here, obviously gathered together by Hermione. “Hermione, want to come help me with this? In the kitchen?” Draco asked, his grey eyes holding her interest. 

Hermione nodded, standing quickly to move toward Draco. As she walked, someone whistled, which was quickly followed by the sound of flesh on flesh and a growl of “Theo— shut it!” Watching Draco’s face tense, Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him into the kitchen, casting a silencing charm on the room as they entered. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said softly as Draco put the takeout on the counter. “I thought it would be nice for you to see them.”

“It is nice,” Draco assured Hermione, his face softening as he looked at her. Carefully he reached out and pulled her into his arms. “You look… spectacular.”

Hermione blushed as Draco appraised her, she ducked her head beneath his chin and wrapped her arms around him, trying to ignore how his toned physique pressed against her. “Thanks, it’s an old dress, from Bill and Fleur’s wedding,” She answered, looking down at how the material rested over her bump. “It’s a bit tight now.”

Draco squeezed her and placed a swift kiss against Hermione’s forehead. “Like I said— spectacular,” he whispered against her skin, causing a shiver to run down her spine. 

Hermione took a deep steadying breath, trying to slow her racing heart as Draco pulled away and led her back to their guests.

“Well, that was quick,” Theo commented as soon as the pair reappeared. “Not even a hair out of place.”

Draco’s hand tightened on Hermione’s. “Theo,” he spoke icily, “behave. Hermione and I are friends. End of conversation.”

“Whatever,” Theo replied, eying Draco as he casually took a sip of his drink. “When are we eating?”

“Now, everything is set up in the dining room,” Hermione answered a little too quickly before turning to lead the way, towing Draco along in her wake.

Hermione’s dining room was lit by the soft glow of candles and the faint blue light from the waterfall, which could be seen through the floor to ceiling glass windows. “Impressive,” Blaise said as he walked in, taking in the view and the mountain of food on the table. “You designed this all yourself?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied happily, sitting down between Draco and Harry. Blaise took the seat opposite, with Daphne and Theo sitting either side of him. “I had a lot of help building it, I didn’t want to lose the beauty of the cave, so I’ve got full windows on this side so you can see out and the enchanted ceilings so you can see up. Help yourselves to the food, by the way.”

“Wow,” Daphne said softly, staring up. “I didn’t even notice the ceilings, are they like this through the whole house?”

”Mhmm,” Hermione nodded, swallowing her first mouthful. “I think it’s best in the bathroom, I can just lie in there for hours.”

“Granger,” Theo said carefully, looking at the food around him. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but where is the real food? All I’m seeing is vegetables.”

“Oh, shit,” Hermione blurted out, slapping her hand to her head. “I forgot.” Hermione recalled the first meal she had cooked for Draco, the confusion she was seeing on Theo’s face was almost the exact same look Draco had worn. Now, however, Draco actually enjoyed the food she cooked and if he fancied something specific he would provide and cook it himself. 

“You forgot?” Theo questioned as Hermione nodded her head, causing her neat curls to bounce around her face.

“Hermione’s a vegan,” Draco stated, watching as confusion flashed across Theo’s face. “She doesn’t eat meat or anything that comes from an animal.” He almost laughed as he realised how unobservant his friends were. Even though they frequently dined together, not one of them had noticed how he had stopped ordering meat dishes, choosing the vegetarian option most of the time unless he really craved a juicy steak. 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione apologised, looking at each of the Slytherins in turn. “I didn’t even think, everyone I usually cook for knows.” Whilst most people were accepting of her choice, Ron hadn’t understood and insisted on Hermione cooking meat for him. Which ultimately ended up in Hermione using Tofu as a meat substitute and Ron being none the wiser. 

“How interesting,” Daphne interjected, smiling at Hermione. “How did you survive through Hogwarts?”

Hermione laughed, remembering the first time she had spoken to Harry and Ron about her wish to be a vegan. “It was almost impossible. I tried my best but there just wasn’t enough variety. Now I do all my own cooking, it’s so much easier.”

“Well, I’m quite enjoying the food,” Daphne responded happily, cutting up her food carefully. “You’re a good cook.”

“I agree,” Blaise added, helping himself to another stuffed pepper as Draco grinned at him. 

“Theo,” Draco questioned, shifting his attention from Blaise as Theo still looked a little gobsmacked. “Do you want my takeout? I grabbed some chicken and cashew nuts.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Theo replied, trying his best not to be rude and smile at his hosts. “I was just surprised.”

“Theo,” Hermione said, waving her hand in the air. “Eat it, I won’t be offended. Draco still eats meat around me, just because I don’t want to doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

The takeout box was now hovering happily next to Theo. “How did you do that?” He asked sharply, reaching out to take the offending box and loading the food onto his plate.

“Brightest witch of her age,” Harry supplied jokingly, flashing Hermione a smile. “That’s why we had to take her on the run with us, we couldn’t have survived on our own!” 

“Very funny, Harry,” Hermione smirked, poking her tongue out at him as Draco squeezed her leg beneath the table. 

The rest of the meal passed quickly with the scrape of cutlery and easy conversation. Hermione was becoming more comfortable with the three Slytherins and found Daphne’s presence to be quite enjoyable. Daphne was smart and quick-witted, having hung around with boys for so long like Hermione had. She also had a wicked sense of humour, the whole table laughing at her on more than one occasion. 

As the food vanished from the table and everyone sat happily full, Hermione stood, summoning all the plates to stack neatly in front of her before she turned to leave the room, noticing as she did that Draco was standing to help. “No,” Hermione said with a smile. “You sit,” she commanded, pointing her finger at his chair causing Draco to be forced back into his seat. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Hermione cried rushing back to Draco, “I didn’t mean to!”

Draco laughed and held his hands up in surrender. “It’s fine, don’t worry, I won’t help you.”

“What was that?” Blaise asked Draco as Hermione left the room with the plates levitating in front of her.

“Sometimes Hermione accidentally uses magic,” Draco answered calmly, folding his napkin and tossing it down in front of him. “It only happens here and it’s always minor magic. The other day she accidentally froze me when I tried to help cook dinner.”

Harry laughed. “Yea, you don’t help Hermione cook, should have warned you about that one.”

“No harm, Potter,” Draco replied as he stretched, smirking at the memory. “Her face was a picture though, she was so surprised!”

Suddenly all the candles went out and the room was lit only by the moonlight from the enchanted ceiling. “What’s going on?” Theo questioned as the rest of the guests sat up straighter in their chairs. “More accidental magic?”

Hermione laughed from the corridor. “No, I meant to do this,” she said, appearing in the doorway, holding out a giant golden snitch cake— like the one she and Ginny had made for Harry’s birthday— lit with twenty-two flaming candles. “Happy Birthday, Draco.”

A soft “ooh” echoed through the room as everyone watched Hermione carefully place the cake in front of Draco. “Thank you,” he said, mesmerised by the flames. Draco caught one of Hermione’s hands as she made to move away and kissed her palm lightly.

“Don’t forget your wish!” Hermione reminded Draco as he took a deep breath. He then closed his eyes, made his wish and blew out all his candles in one go as the table around him cheered. 

“Who wants some?” Hermione asked as she passed Draco the knife. With a chorus of “Me!” from everyone in the room, Hermione summoned the plates from the kitchen and relit the dining room candles. 

“Merlin this is good, Granger. I would marry you for this cake every day,” Theo spoke thickly through his mouthful. 

Hermione let out a shocked gasp as Draco choked on his cake. Speaking to Theo, Hermione rubbed small circles on Draco’s back to ease his coughing. “I’m flattered, Theo, but I’m still married.”

Blaise, Daphne and Harry had tears running down their faces as Draco regained his composure. “Bloody hell, Theo, the M word from you is like hearing Potter swear!” he laughed as Theo slowly realised what he had said.

“I didn’t mean to— I mean— I just,” Theo bumbled as everyone laughed, his cheeks flushing pink. “It’s bloody good cake, that’s all.”

Eventually the laughter died down and everyone finished their food, now sitting in a comfortable silence. Harry excused himself. “Sorry guys, I’ve gotta get home to the wife. Draco, Happy Birthday mate. Hermione, mind if I have a quick word?”

“Cheers, Potter, say hi to Ginny for me,” Draco said sleepily as Harry and Hermione left the room.

“Do they do that a lot?” Daphne asked curiously, leaning back in her chair.

“What? Harry and Hermione?” Draco asked, continuing as Daphne nodded. “Yea, they’re like brother and sister, they tell each other everything. Hermione’ll tell me if she thinks I need to know.”

Daphne nodded, her head coming to rest on Blaise’s shoulder before falling into a sleepy silence along with the rest of her Slytherin companions. 

“What’s up, Harry?” Hermione questioned, leaning against the wall. Overall, Hermione was quite impressed with how the evening had gone, even with Theo’s little comments, everyone seemed to have enjoyed themselves and she had enjoyed seeing Draco interact with his friends. 

“Ron’s back,” Harry said quickly, deciding it was best to get the news out in the open as he rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “They finished their mission early so he’s on desk work for the next two weeks at least, maybe the whole month. I just wanted to tell you before you saw him around the Ministry.” 

Hermione sighed. She had hoped to have a clearer idea of things with the baby— babies— before she had to see him again. “Thanks, Harry, do you know when he’s due to see the lawyer?”

“From what I remember, he’s meeting him on Wednesday,” Harry responded, opening his arms to hug Hermione.

“Ok, thanks, Harry,” Hermione replied, muffled against his chest. “You still need to tell me why Ginny didn’t come tonight.”

“I know,” Harry murmured, rubbing his hand across Hermione’s back. “Can I talk to you about it on Friday?”

“Yea,” Hermione nodded as Harry stepped outside. “See you Friday.”

“Thanks,” Harry said before disappearing with a pop. Hermione headed back to the living room to find Draco in the middle of goodbyes with his friends.

“Good to see you guys,” Draco spoke happily, turning his head to see Hermione approaching. “We must do it more often.”

“Yes,” Daphne agreed as she pulled on her light jacket. “It was fun. Plus, Hermione is a great cook. I’d love for us to have a girls night soon so I can get to know you better.”

“I’d enjoy that,” Hermione replied with a smile, “I’ll check my diary and owl you?”

“Brilliant,” Daphne answered, giving Hermione a small hug before returning to stand with Theo and Blaise.

“I think we know what Theo thinks of Hermione’s cooking,” Blaise teased lightly as he tipped his head in Hermione’s direction. “Thanks for inviting us.”

“No problem,” Hermione smiled back, tucking herself into Draco’s open arm. “It was nice to get to know you all.”

“Yea, thanks, Granger,” Theo muttered as he scuffed his feet against the floor.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Hermione said sleepily, squeezing Draco’s side. “I’m rather tired, so I’ll leave Draco to see you out.” Draco pecked her quickly on the cheek before she headed back to her bedroom. 

After a chorus of “Night!” Draco showed the group back to the entrance of the cave. “Thanks for coming guys, it really was a nice surprise.”

“All Hermione’s idea,” Blaise said as he stepped outside, drawing his cloak around him.

“Yea,” Theo added as he too stepped outside. “Hermione owled me last week. I was surprised she remembered me.”

“No one forgets you, Theo,” Daphne said softly as she looped her arm through Theo’s, laughing as his face lit up.

“You’re coming back to mine?” Theo questioned. As Daphne smiled at him and nodded her head, Theo quickly wrapped his arm around Daphne’s waist and pulled her in close. “Laters guys!” Theo rasped as he Disapparated the pair of them quickly. 

“Are they seeing each other again?” Draco question, shocked, still staring at the spot where they vanished.

Blaise shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. “I’ve given up trying to understand Theo and Daphne. Night, Draco.”

“Night, Blaise,” Draco replied easily, watching as Blaise also vanished into the darkness. Stifling a yawn, Draco headed back to Hermione’s bedroom, pausing for a moment when he spotted her already half asleep beneath the sheets. Draco pondered for a moment taking her back to his place but quickly decided against it. She was slowly getting better and she worked so hard to give him a wonderful evening. Draco stripped down to his boxers and joined her in bed, pulling Hermione into his embrace to whisper into her ear, “Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” Hermione replied as she snuggled back into Draco’s chest, her voice heavy with sleep already. “Oh! I almost forgot your present!”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Granger,” Draco mumbled as she squirmed against him. Reluctantly, he let her go, and Hermione shuffled to her bedside table.

“Here,” Hermione said, moving back to his side with a small gift wrapped neatly in silver paper.

Draco took the gift carefully and sat up, watching as Hermione nibbled her lower lip. He removed the bow and tore into the paper. Two little pictures fell out onto his lap, and Draco picked them up to inspect them.

“I know we’re not sure if they are yours,” Hermione began, mumbling as Draco sat in silence, his hands trembling faintly. “But since our last appointment, I just feel like they are. I know I’m still married and we’re just friends but honestly, I want them to be yours.” 

At Hermione’s admission, Draco snapped his head up, his eyes focusing on her as his heart thumped loudly in his chest, unable to speak, Draco allowed Hermione to continue, her voice wavering slightly. “I could be getting my hopes up, but I can’t imagine it being any other way and I... I just wanted you to be able to carry them with you like I am.”

Unfamiliar emotions filled Draco, his brain trying rapidly to understand what was going on as he looked at those two tiny pictures. His heart constricted as he replayed Hermione’s words, she could be getting her hopes up. She wanted the babies to be  _ his _ ? Hermione wanted him to have her scan pictures. For the first time, Draco truly the fantasy of them play out inside his head— him, Hermione 

and  _ their  _ twins. Unable to speak, Draco placed the two pictures on the bedside table before turning back to Hermione. Placing his hands on either side of her head, Draco lowered himself down slowly, pressing his lips to hers. 

It was a slow, sweet kiss, and Hermione felt her hands creep up around Draco’s neck and into his hair, holding him close as she kissed him back, his soft lips moving against hers in a perfect rhythm. Draco broke the kiss first and rested his forehead against hers, breathing heavily as Hermione released a contented sigh.

Draco laid back down next to Hermione and pulled her body into his, kissing a bit of exposed skin before whispering, “Night,” into Hermione’s ear, causing her to snuggle back into him. Wrapping his arm around her waist, Draco nuzzled his face into her hair, breathing in its fruity scent as Hermione fell asleep in his arms. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was her face and the photos of the babies she had given him, thoughts of his best birthday ever filling his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha love to tectonictigress & TriDogMom as always! :D


	11. Chapter 11

The following Friday, Hermione found herself waist deep in the pool from the waterfall. Harry stood watching carefully on the shoreline as Hermione manipulated the water around her. Every time Hermione was investigating something different within the cave, the department hired an Auror to monitor the work. Hermione was extremely thankful that it was Harry who had been assigned this time— the other Auror’s had a distinct disdain for her working methods, which made her research difficult. 

“Finding much?” Harry called out, walking toward Hermione. It was nice to see Hermione looking, well, like Hermione. She had slowly been coming back to herself since Ron’s departure and Harry knew it was down to Draco.

“There’s definitely something under here,” Hermione shouted back, her face inches from the surface of the rippling water as she squinted at the shapes below. Unable to contain her curiosity, Hermione rolled up her sleeves and plunged her hands into the water, her fingertips quickly finding the rough surface beneath. “Harry! Can you come back here and help me please?” Hermione questioned excitedly. 

Harry cast a quick water-repelling charm and trudged into the water with Hermione. “What do you want me to do?” he asked with a small smile. Hermione’s never-ending enthusiasm always made him smile and he would do anything to keep it on her face. 

“I’m going to use the Bubble-Head Charm and duck under the water so I can look at the bottom of the pool. Can you hold me down so I can use my hands to feel what’s down there?” Hermione asked briskly.

“Umm, sure?” Harry answered confused. “Can’t you just move the water? Or I can, then you can look?” 

“Oh!” Hermione exclaimed, happily clapping her hands together. “Of course! Sorry, I blame baby brain.” Not that she bought into the whole phenomenon yet, she was yet to research it fully but it did come in handy when her neurons misfired. 

“Excuse me?” Harry laughed as Hermione pulled her hair back smiling.

“It’s an old wives tale,” Hermione explained. “Supposedly pregnant women are prone to forgetfulness, hence the term ‘baby brain’. Shall we start?”

“Sure,” Harry replied, pulling his sleeves up. “Which bit do you want me to move first?”

“I think there is something right here,” Hermione said, pointing to the spot directly in front of her.

“Ok,” Harry said seriously, his eyebrows drawing together in concentration. “One, two, three!” Concentrating hard, Harry moved the mass of water, and Hermione promptly dropped to her knees to examine the markings.

“Fascinating,” Hermione muttered, tracing her fingers over the patterns carved into the floor. Upon closer inspection, they didn’t appear to be patterns, more like, ancient letters. Running her fingertips over the edges of each sharp groove, Hermione came to the conclusion that someone had worked very hard to make these marks. The grooves were rough, indicating it was done by hand, not by magic and the more her touch lingered, the stronger the tingle of ancient magic became against her skin.

Finding herself drawn to the images, Hermione yearned to know more. Who had carved them? What was their purpose? Was the magic she felt still powerful to this day? Were there others, who like her, thought of this place as home? “Harry,” Hermione whispered quietly, almost afraid to speak too loudly and disturb the aura of magic she could feel around her, “do you recognize these markings?” 

Harry grunted, moving closer. “No, I’ve never seen them before,” he said, sweating under the strain of keeping the water levitated. “Hermione, you need to move. I’m gonna drop this.”

“Right!” Hermione shouted, standing up quickly just as the water crashed back down around her waist. “Sorry, Harry, I forgot how tiring that spell is.”

“No problem,” Harry replied, coughing as water went down his throat. “So what do you think they are?”

“I’m not sure.” Hermione answered, staring hard at the water trying to discern the pattern again. “I’ll need another look when you’re ready,” Hermione said, looking at her friend when she suddenly remembered he had something he was supposed to tell her. “Why didn’t Ginny come last week, Harry?”

“Oh, yeah, that,” Harry said, reaching up to massage the back of his neck, looking guiltily around the cave. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell Hermione why Ginny hadn’t turned up, more that he wasn’t sure  _ how _ to tell Hermione. For all of her brilliance, she sometimes lacked the necessary empathy to truly understand feelings that weren’t her own. “Just remember I heard you out when you told me about Draco, ok?”

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione said lightly, her hand jumping onto her hip as she watched Harry’s face twist. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Ginny’s jealous,” Harry blurted out, watching as Hermione’s mouth popped open and her free hand jumped onto her other hip. Realising she was about to speak, Harry held up his hands, silently begging for more time to explain. “Ginny is jealous because you’re pregnant and you weren’t even trying.”

Slowly coming back to her senses, Hermione muttered, “technically, I tried once with Ron,” as Harry implored her to continue listening.

“Yes, but your heart wasn’t really in it,” Harry spoke soothingly, his hand coming to rest on Hermione’s shoulder and giving her a light squeeze. “Ginny and I have been trying for a while now and it’s just not happening. She so desperately wants to be a mum but every month that passed was putting more and more strain on our relationship. Ginny was starting to get really down, and you know what Molly is like. Then you fell pregnant, just like that. Ginny knows it’s irrational, that’s part of the reason she’s been avoiding you. She didn’t want to say something she’d regret later.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Hermione replied gently, reaching out to give Harry a small hug. “I didn’t know you guys were struggling.”

“No, you know how I like to keep stuff like that private,” Harry said delicately, squeezing Hermione tightly as the biggest confession of all rested on the tip of his tongue. “It’s my fault anyway.”

Stepping back, Hermione looked up at Harry, “How can it be your fault?” she inquired quietly, her hands dropping to hold onto Harry’s shaking ones.

“The Healer thinks it’s because I was a Horcrux,” Harry whispered, his voice echoing around the cave. “Having something so dark in my body for so long was bound to have some kind of effect, outside of the visions and everything.” 

“Gods, Harry,” Hermione said, the water rippling as she moved to embrace him again. “I’m sorry, that must put an enormous strain on the relationship.”

“A little,” Harry confessed, smiling slightly as he thought of Ginny. “But you know what she’s like, so determined. She knows it will happen, she’s just impatient.”

“Did the Healer say anything else? If you don’t mind me asking?” Hermione questioned gently.

“They think my body just needs time to heal,” Harry said calmly. “They’ve already noticed significant improvements since I joined the Auror department. It’ll only be a matter of time.”

“I hope it happens soon,” Hermione replied sincerely, squeezing Harry tightly around the middle. “If there’s anything I can do to make it easier for Ginny to be around me, I will.”

“No, Hermione, there’s no need to do that. Ginny knows she needs to come to terms with it, and she will,” Harry said reassuringly, stepping away from Hermione. “Shall we get back to these runes?”

“Yes!” Hermione shouted, surprising Harry. “They’re runes! Brilliant! Move that water so I can draw them! Please,” Hermione added as an afterthought. 

“Sure thing,” Harry replied happily. “You ready?”

“Yup!” Hermione cheered, summoning the paper from the nearby desk. “Go!”

Harry mustered all his concentration and levitated the water as Hermione ducked down and drew out the five runes carved into the ground. “Done!” she shouted triumphantly as Harry let the water crash down around them, inadvertently swallowing some more as it sploshed around.

“Phew,” Harry said, wiping the sweat from his brow. “I think I need to be out in the field more — desk work has made me weak.” 

Hermione laughed as she and Harry waded out of the water. “I think I’m done for the day, Harry, if you want to head on,” Hermione suggested, studying the piece of parchment in her hand. 

“If you’re sure you’re done,” Harry said suspiciously, knowing Hermione was likely to carry on without him.

“Yes,” Hermione replied honestly, her eyes alight with excitement. “I want to get to work looking at these runes and figuring out what they mean. I’m so happy we found them!”

“Ok,” Harry said, relaxing slightly. “Send me a Patronus if you want to carry on and I’ll come straight over.”

“No, it’s ok, I’m going to start some dinner and then hit the books,” Hermione reassured Harry, gathering together her notes and beginning to walk up the steep steps to the living room.

“See you later then, Hermione,” Harry said, his body already feeling weary and tired. Hermione had dashed ahead of him in her excitement and was already pulling multiple books from her bookcase.

“Bye!” Hermione called merrily over her shoulder as Harry walked down the long corridor, the darkness swallowing him whole. Now, Hermione pondered, where to start? Advanced Rune Translation? Spellman’s Syllabary? Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms? Overwhelmed by the possibilities, Hermione sat down and pulled all three books toward her, promptly forgetting about dinner. 

* * *

Hermione had spent the following week buried in books. Of the five runes she had drawn, she had successfully translated only one. Out of frustration, Hermione had insisted she have the opportunity to examine the pool floor twice since Harry’s visit, and her supervisor had happily obliged, hiring a different Auror each time. 

Now, Hermione found herself once again trawling through the old parchments buried deep within the Ministry, not one of them yielding any useful information. The desk around her was littered with empty tea cups and the floor was strewn with wrinkled pieces of parchment. Just as Hermione was about to scream in frustration, Draco walked in.

“I thought I’d find you down here,” Draco said, reaching down to snag one of Hermione’s papers. “You’re still struggling to translate the runes?”

“Yes,” Hermione bit out as she paced around the room. “It’s impossible! I’m never going to know what those runes mean!”

“Come on,” Draco replied, catching Hermione as she walked past. He understood her desire to find the answers, but she had barely been out of the office this week. “Nothing is impossible, you’ll feel better on Monday with a fresh head.”

“No,” Hermione seethed, twisting herself away from Draco so she could look at the runes again. “I’ll be better when I figure this out.”

“Hermione,” Draco spoke sternly now. He was not going to let her overwork herself when the Healer explicitly told them she needed to stay relaxed. “It’s six o’clock on a Friday. You are leaving the office with me, now, and we’re going out.”

“Draco,” Hermione retorted, mimicking his stern voice. “I am staying here to figure this out.”

Draco rubbed his hand across his face. She really was stubborn. Instead of arguing further, Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione’s chest and scooped her legs up from under her, holding her bridal style as he walked her out of the office.

“Put me down, Draco!” Hermione shouted, wriggling in his grip as Draco tightened his hold on her legs.

“Nope!” Draco grinned back, walking them up from the bowels of the Ministry and straight through the Atrium. “I told you, we’re going out, with Harry and Ginny.” 

Hermione huffed and slumped into Draco’s body knowing she wasn’t going to win against him. “I’m not happy about this Draco.”

Draco laughed as they made it out onto the street. “Oh, I know.”

Seeing Harry and Ginny ahead of them, Draco set Hermione on her feet and waved. Hermione grumbled as she went about straightening out her clothes when her name was called. “Hermione!” Harry and Ginny shouted in unison as they made their way over. “I see Draco got you out of the office?” Harry joked as he gave her a brief hug. 

“Oh, yes,” Hermione said darkly, throwing Draco a filthy look over her shoulder. “Draco dragged me out in the middle of my research.”

“From what I’ve heard, you need a break,” Ginny commented, casually looping her arm through Hermione’s to lead the way. “Anyway, we’re going bowling.”

“Bowling?” Draco questioned, he hadn’t heard that phrase before.

Hermione laughed at Draco’s confused expression. Imagining him wearing those hideous bowling shoes slightly lifted her mood. “Oh, you are going to love it Draco,” Hermione laughed wickedly, clapping her hands together. “Oh, I am going to enjoy this — let’s go Gin!”

Watching Hermione saunter off with Ginny, Draco turned to Harry, unsure of what he had gotten himself into. “What is bowling, Potter?”

“It’s a Muggle game,” Harry explained as Hermione’s laughter echoed back to them. “Basically you throw a ball down an alley and try to knock over the pins at the end. Whoever knocks the most down wins.”

“Sounds simple enough,” Draco replied dubiously. Harry’s description didn’t match the looks Hermione kept giving him. 

Looking around as they walked in, Draco was assaulted by a barrage of bright lights coupled with the pounding beat of loud music. “What is this place?” Draco shouted to Harry. 

“Where all the hip kids come on a Friday night,” Harry joked, leading Draco over to the counter. 

Hermione sat with Ginny and watched Draco as he and Harry talked to the person behind the counter. Ginny pulled her hand to get her attention before shouting over the noise of the music. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant. Harry told me he explained why, but I wanted to apologise properly.”

Glancing around them, Hermione carefully moved her wand inside her sleeve. “There,” she said, happily having cast a Muffliato around their benches. “We should be able to hear each other now. Don’t worry about it Gin, I totally understand where you’re coming from.”

“Thanks, Hermione,” Ginny replied with a small smile, tucking a lock of her flaming hair behind her ear. “It’s just been really difficult, you know? We’re practically sisters in so many ways and yet, I don’t know if I’m going to be Auntie Ginny to your little bundle. I’ve always had this dream where we get to raise our kids together and they’ll be as close as we are, but I’m not even pregnant yet and Ron is well, you know, being Ron. What if it is his and he does something so stupid you guys actually go ahead and get divorced? I just feel so torn, I want everything to be perfect and it’s far from it.”

Hermione looked at the younger woman, suddenly realising just how much she had been burying her head in the sand. In the past few weeks she hadn’t even thought of Ginny, or any of the Weasleys, choosing instead to buckle down and work, hoping her problems would melt away. “I’m so sorry Gin,” Hermione blurted out suddenly, wrapping her arms around Ginny’s neck, “I’ve been so self involved, I’ve been trying to ignore everything until we know the facts, but that might not be until after I give birth. But don’t worry, you’ll always be Auntie Gin.”

“And you’ll always be Aunt Hermione,” Ginny replied with a small smile, “even if you’re not married to my brother. Oh my god!” Ginny squealed, grabbing Hermione’s shoulders and turning her so she could see Draco and Harry, “I never thought I’d see Draco Malfoy looking so uncomfortable!” 

Hermione’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of Draco, slowly walking towards them carrying three drinks in his hands, trying his hardest not to slip as he walked. Biting her lip, Hermione tried and failed not to laugh. 

Draco smiled at Hermione as he carefully placed the drinks down in front of them. “Does this mean I’m forgiven for dragging you out of the office?”

Hermione smirked. “You can drag me out of the office anytime if I get to see you in those hideous bowling shoes!”

“I’ll remember that,” Draco replied, smirking back at Hermione as Harry rejoined the group. 

After a few moments of set up, the game was ready, and Harry began teaching Draco how to play. “Like I was saying, all you’ve got to do is throw the ball down the alley and hit as many pins as possible. Just watch.”

Harry walked up to the line and carefully lifted the bowling ball to his face, then swung his arm back to let the ball fly forward in a perfect line, scoring him a strike. “Yes!” Harry whooped as he raced back to the group. “Stttrrriikkeeeeeeee!!” 

Laughing, Ginny jumped up, smacking Harry cheekily on the bum before grabbing her own ball and throwing it down the alley, scoring a strike as well. Ginny sauntered back to the group and gave Harry a kiss. “You don’t have to be The Chosen One to get a strike, my love,” she teased lightly. 

“Put him down Ginny!” Hermione joked, standing to take her turn and carefully choosing her ball. Hermione took her place and launched the ball down the alley, knocking all but two of the pins over. Returning to collect another ball, Hermione mouthed a quick thank you at Draco before turning back and knocking one of the two remaining pins down. 

“Oh— my— gosh, Hermione!” Ginny squealed as Hermione froze confused. “You have the  _ cutest _ little bump! I didn’t notice before!”

Tugging self consciously at her shirt, Hermione looked at Ginny before looking down at her stomach. She had been glamouring the bump for work, but it must have worn off. Adjusting to the changes in her body and her life was taking time, Hermione wasn’t sure how to react to Ginny’s excitement. Smiling awkwardly, Hermione replied. “Yea, it um, just started showing.”

“I think you look beautiful,” Draco spoke softly, his voice carrying over to Hermione as she fiddled with the hem of her top.

Heat flooded Hermione’s face. “Thanks,” she mumbled, moving quickly to sit down and get the attention off herself. “It’s, um, your turn, Draco.”

Standing to take his turn, Draco questioned, “So, I just throw the ball down the alley?” Trailing his fingers lightly across Hermione’s shoulder as he passed.

“Yup,” Harry replied, taking a sip of his beer as he watched their interaction with a smile. “Just give it a go, see what happens.”

Walking up cautiously, Draco inspected the bowling balls before choosing one and stepping up to the line. Looking back over his shoulder quickly, Draco winked at Hermione before hurling the ball down the alley with an almighty thud. Draco watched nervously as the ball thundered down the lane, crashing into the pins at the end. “How’d I do?” Draco asked excitedly.

“Pretty good, mate,” Harry said, pointing up at the screen as the number nine appeared next to Draco’s name. “All you’ve gotta do now is knock the rest of them over.”

“Piece of cake,” Draco said cockily, striding back to aim his next ball.

“Well done, Draco!” Harry cheered as the remaining pins crashed to the floor. Draco rushed back, giving Harry a high five as he passed.

“I like this game,” Draco said, sitting down next to Hermione as Harry went up to take his turn. 

“Knew you would,” Ginny laughed as she sipped on her beer. “Oh, Hermione,” Ginny continued, turning to Hermione with a grimace. “I saw Ron the other day after he saw the lawyer… he was pissed about the marriage bonds needing to be broken. He thinks it’s  _ unfair _ that he has to wait.”

Surprised by the turn in conversation and not wanting the mention of Ron to ruin the evening, Hermione breathed deeply and pondered her next words. “Well,” Hermione said with a forced kind of calm, slowly sipping on the lemonade Harry had bought her. “I think it’s  _ unfair _ he pushed me away and blamed all our problems on me, but whatever, let’s just enjoy the rest of the night.” 

“Good plan,” Draco agreed, giving Hermione’s leg a squeeze as he took a hearty sip of his beer. 

Hermione could tell Ginny wanted to speak more about Ron, and truth be told, Hermione wanted to share with her but now was not the time nor place. Smiling, the pair shared a silent conversation, as girls do, and agreed to have  _ that _ conversation in a more private setting. 

The rest of the evening passed quickly with Harry and Draco getting more and more competitive. Hermione wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol the three of them had consumed or the general camaraderie, but it turned into one of the most carefree nights she’d had in a long time. Ginny’s consistent running commentary— which would have given Lee Jordan a run for his money— combined with Harry and Draco’s tomfoolery had Hermione laughing to the point of tears on more than one occasion. 

After celebrating his joint victory with Harry, Draco turned to find a bleary-eyed Hermione watching them with a small smile on her face. “Ready to go home?” Draco asked, stooping down in front of her so his chin rested on her knees.

“Mhmm,” Hermione mumbled, nodding her head.

“Come on, then,” Draco said softly, gently pulling Hermione up to stand with him. “We're going to head on,” Draco said, addressing Harry and Ginny.

“Night, guys,” Harry said, smiling as Hermione waved a sleepy hand in their direction.

“See you soon!” Ginny called at their retreating backs before jumping onto Harry. “Right then, Potter, your arse is mine in this next game!”

Tucking Hermione into his side, Draco led them outside, leaving behind the now kissing Harry and Ginny. Out on the street, Draco found a quiet spot and Apparated them both back to his, tucking Hermione into his bed once again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Alpha love to tectonictigress & TriDogMom as always :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N — Sorry this is a week late! Nerves about posting it kicked in due to some previous negative comments. Off the back of that, TriDogMom and I worked really hard on adding the Daphne & Hermione scene, to hopefully give a bit more context to the relationships.
> 
> The idea of emotional cheating was always going to be the key theme here, thanks to TectonicTigress, I initially wrote this as a cheating story but the idea of emotionally cheating, before anything physical happened interested me far more. I may or may not have done it justice but hey ho, I’m enjoying writing this and I think we’re about half way now!

Daphne apparated from her apartment and landed with a well practised ease in the woods near to Hermione’s home, now familiar with the surroundings she picked a careful path through the trees towards the concealed entrance of the cave.

Since Draco’s birthday dinner just over a week ago, Daphne had managed to convince the boys that they needed a weekend together thus leaving her and Hermione free to get to know each other over dinner. Daphne couldn’t help her natural curiosity about the woman who had captured Draco’s heart and was seemingly oblivious to it, it was her duty as Draco’s friend to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt. The situation he found himself in with Hermione was obviously a difficult one, Daphne herself wasn’t too sure how she would handle it if she were in Hermione’s shoes but, Daphne did know one thing, she wouldn’t have let it drag on for this long. 

By her estimations, if Hermione was pregnant with Draco’s child, she would be around twelve weeks along. Twelve weeks since the night Draco’s life had changed. It wasn’t a fact she shared with many people, but Draco had come to Daphne that night, after Hermione had asked him to leave and bared his soul to her. It had been heartbreaking, having seen Draco at his worst during sixth year and after he left Azkaban, it physically pained Daphne to see him struggling again. 

Draco hadn’t come back to her since, but she knew enough from Blaise and Theo to understand that he was trying to look out for Hermione without pressuring her into being with him. If it wasn’t so damn difficult to see him pine so much over Hermione, Daphne would have teased him that hanging around with Gryffindors had ruined his inner Slytherin, pointing out that his determination and self preservation had taken a back seat recently. 

Shaking her head, Daphne reminded herself that the point of this evening was to get to know Hermione; not drill the woman with questions, using every underhanded tactic she had at her disposal to weddle out the truth and get to the heart of the matter with Draco. Exhaling a deep breath, Daphne raised her wand and tapped at the invisible warding preventing her from entering the cave without Hermione first allowing it. 

After waiting patiently for a few moments Daphne was greeted by Hermione with a warm hug, which surprised her but she went with it anyway. Together, they strolled through the long entrance hall exchanging pleasantries before emerging in Hermione’s living room, only to head straight back into the kitchen where the smell of dinner assaulted Daphne’s senses.

“That smells amazing,” Daphne said, her mouth salivating as Hermione laughed and continued to prepare their meal, “what are we having?”

“I thought I’d keep it simple,” Hermione answered easily, pulling what looked like potato wedges from the oven before she rotated something skewered on the grill. “I’ve got mushroom and quinoa burgers under a stasis charm just there, to go with the wedges and grilled vegetables, I hope that’s ok?”

“Sounds fantastic,” Daphne replied, leaning herself back against the kitchen counter and rummaging in her bag for the bottle she bought earlier in the day, “care for a drink?” she asked, brandishing the bottle in Hermione’s direction, “it’s non-alcoholic, obviously.” 

Hermione agreed with a nod and pointed at the cupboard just behind Daphne, “the glasses are just in there if you don’t mind opening it up and pouring?” 

“Not at all,” Daphne agreed, turning to pull two glasses down before filling them to the brim, “anything else I can do?”

“Nope,” Hermione answered, turning to face Daphne with two plates of steaming food, “we’re all set! I thought we’d eat in the living room tonight, it’s more comfortable. Unless you’d prefer to be in the dining room?”

“I’m happy in the living room,” Daphne smiled, following Hermione out of the kitchen as her stomach rumbled. After years of family meals at the dining table and shared meals at Hogwarts and Beauxbatons, Daphne could appreciate the occasional casual dinner.

Settling on opposite ends of the sofa, Daphne placed the drinks on the coasters so Hermione could pass her the steaming plate of food, giving it a sniff Daphne moaned in appreciation, “I’ve been looking forward to this all week!”

Laughing at Daphne’s enthusiasm, Hermione settled back against the sofa cushions and cradled the burger in her hands, “I can teach you one day if you like?” 

Daphne pondered Hermione’s offer for a moment, she wasn’t a bad cook but it had also never been something she considered improving, she only had the need to cook on a night she didn’t want to go out, which wasn’t often. “That could be fun,” Daphne nodded, taking a bite of the burger.

As they both devoured their meals they discussed normal things, how they had spent their day, how their work was going and their plans for the following day. With their light chit chat running out, Daphne wondered how to bring up the issue of Draco, thinking of no easy way, Daphne dove straight in. 

“So,” she began, placing her plate on the table before bringing her knees up to her chin, “what’s the deal with you and Draco?”

“Draco and I?” Hermione queried, banishing her and Daphne’s plates to the kitchen, “we’re friends.”

Daphne scoffed, earning herself a glare from Hermione. “I apologise, I just find that hard to believe. You and Draco have undeniable chemistry; after the night you spent together there’s no way you’re going back to friends. I  _ know _ friends with benefits, that isn’t you and Draco.”

“Of course we’re not friends with benefits,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes, what a preposterous idea! They were adults, not horny teenagers scared of commitment. But, even as Hermione thought that she second guessed herself… the night they spent together was lust fuelled and Hermione had managed to dodge almost every question regarding her feelings for Draco since. 

“So, you guys didn’t kiss after we all left the night of his birthday?” Daphne asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrow arching as Hermione gasped. With a smirk Daphne continued, “Draco has not shut up about it.”

“Yes, well,” Hermione blushed, her fingers picking at the hem of her top as she tried to come up with a way to explain the kiss. They hadn’t spoken of it since and Hermione wasn’t brave enough to bring it up, knowing it would lead to a conversation of  _ them _ .

“Look, I’m not saying your friends with benefits, that would suggest you two are still sleeping together,” Daphne pushed, wondering just how much she could say as Hermione flushed a deeper shade of red. “But, you do have other benefits that are outside of a normal friendship.”

Hermione considered Daphne’s statement in silence as the other woman watched her carefully, as much as she wanted to be offended by Daphne’s direct questions she realised if she were in Daphne’s position and Harry was Draco, she wouldn’t be going lightly on this newcomer either. 

However, it did raise the rather uncomfortable question of what she and Draco were to one another, in her mind the box labelled Draco was still firmly closed, with a few extra bits of tape to keep the pesky lid on. But, was she giving out other signs that she wasn’t acknowledging? Draco attended every Healer appointment he could and tended to her every need without ever being asked; they basically lived together for the last few weeks and they shared his bed. It had never crossed Hermione’s mind to sleep somewhere else, magic infused every fibre of her being and yet she never once thought to transfigure the sofa on a nightly basis or to Apparate herself home and sleep in her own bed.

Daphne watched with great interest as each thought made itself visible in Hermione’s features; a tilt of the head, a small smile, scrunched eyes and finally a bitten lip, the woman was confused by her feelings for Draco and therefore, trying to ignore them. In that moment, Daphne decided that maybe the best way to help Hermione address her feelings for Draco was to try it from a different perspective. 

“Take Theo and I, for example,” Daphne continued, hoping her plan would work, “we got together not long after the war, tried to have a relationship but it crumbled under societal pressure. As a direct result of that, I can’t commit to him one hundred percent because I don’t want to be pushed into a marriage by my parents. But, I care for him deeply.”

“Aren’t you with him now?” Hermione queried, recalling a passing comment that Draco had made about Daphne promising Theo a saucy welcome home after this weekend.

“We are,” Daphne promptly responded, “but we’re not flaunting it. Theo and I are magnetic. We can’t stay away from each other but even after I’ve called things off, or asked for a cool down period, Theo is still there. He gives me the space I need but we still go out to dinners and such, like friends would but I know if I made a move Theo would take me back to his.”

Pausing for a moment and grabbing her glass, Daphne allowed her admission to sink in, hoping that Hermione would realise Draco does the exact same thing for her. The Slytherin men were both chameleons, adapting to their environments.

“All I’m saying is,” Daphne continued after a few minutes of contemplation on Hermione’s part, “that someone always has to make the first move. Theo understands my issues and doesn’t push me to take that leap of faith and Draco does the same, although part of his hesitancy is also self preservation, he’s scared of getting hurt.”

“I could never hurt him!” Hermione exclaimed, surprising Daphne enough to make the poor woman jump and spill a bit of her drink. “Sorry,” Hermione muttered, quickly vanishing the spill from Daphne’s blouse, “I just, I would never hurt Draco.”

“I know,” Daphne assured Hermione, carefully placing her drink back on the table, “you wouldn’t intentionally do it but sometimes doing nothing can be just as painful. Personally, I think you and Draco could be indestructible, but those are just my two knuts.” 

The silence that followed Daphne’s statement wasn’t awkward but it was filled with a kind of tension she hadn’t expected, looking to lighten the mood Daphne offered, “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable but I get the sense you two will just keep dancing around each other until it’s too late. I almost lost Theo once and I’d hate for Draco to lose you.”

Hermione felt herself soften at Daphne’s admission, the woman was after all trying to make sure her friend didn’t get hurt, after years of looking after Harry and Ron, Hermione couldn’t fault Daphne for her words. “It’s ok,” Hermione assured Daphne with a smile, “I can appreciate where you’re coming from, it’s just really difficult right now with everything that’s happening with Ron.”

“What is happening with Ron? If you don’t mind me asking?” Daphne questioned, knowing the other woman couldn’t have spoken much about it, what with her best friends also being her soon to be ex-husbands family and friends. Daphne knew she didn’t share much about Ron with Draco since they’d slept together, much to Draco’s annoyance. 

Settling back into her cushions, Hermione pondered Daphne’s query before quickly deciding that perhaps, it would be good to talk about Ron with someone who was somewhat removed from the situation with no personal attachment. “Yeah, ok. What do you want to know?”

Mimicking Hermione’s posture, Daphne allowed herself to relax back into the sofa, stifling a smirk as she thought of all her etiquette lessons which had been long forgotten along with all of the Pureblood bullshit. “Why did the two of you separate? Draco never mentioned you were having issues and then he said you two had separated.” 

Touched by the fact that Draco never passed on the struggles she’d shared with him and slightly amused by Daphne’s first question cutting straight to the difficult bit, Hermione laughed before sobering and remembering the night of the separation. 

“There were many reasons really,” Hermione began, deciding not to bore Daphne with a repeat of the exact events as she had Harry. “After Ron qualified as an Auror his missions were still to hunt and capture elusive Death Eaters, I was alone a lot, worrying about him and my PTSD started to creep back. Combine that with the pressure of him wanting a family; me wanting to push forward in my career; his jealousy over my friendship with Draco and my jealousy over his friendship with his work partner Olivia. You’ve got a vault load of stress and two very stubborn people.” 

“Olivia?” Daphne asked, leaning forward intently hoping it wasn’t the Olivia she knew, “Olivia Dubois?”

“Do you know her?” Hermione asked suspiciously, suddenly unsure how much more she wanted to reveal to Daphne.

_ Shit. _ Daphne thought internally as the pieces of the puzzle all fell together, Astoria had been regaling her only a few weeks ago with the continued story between Olivia and her mystery married man, claiming that she would never been so naive to fall for a married man, it was such a mess poor Olivia found herself in now. 

“Astoria and I met Olivia when we were at Beauxbatons,” Daphne began, noticing the look of confusion on Hermione's face she clarified before continuing. “Our parents arranged a transfer for my seventh year, which isn’t traditional there, and Astoria’s sixth year, to keep us out of the war. I never particularly got on with the girl but she and Astoria have been friends ever since.”

“Has Astoria ever told you anything about Ron and Olivia?” Hermione asked, hating how her voice wavered at the end.

“Yes,” Daphne confessed quietly, watching as shock struck Hermione’s features, “but never by name, I didn’t even know where in the Ministry Olivia worked until just now.”

“Will you tell me?” Hermione asked, her voice equally as quiet. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the truth, her imagination had been hard enough to battle against but, knowing that Daphne knew which meant others might also know, settled her doubts.

“Do you really want me to?” Daphne queried, noticing as she did so that Hermione’s eyes had a glint of determination in them.

“Yes,” Hermione answered, hearing her voice come out strong even though her spine had stiffened as she straightened, bracing for the worst.

“Ok,” Daphne agreed with a sigh, she hadn’t wanted to know this information in the first place and having to share it with Hermione was not a pleasant prospect. “Just know that I’ve only heard pieces and knowing Olivia, they’ve properly been overstated.”

“It’s fine,” Hermione replied, watching as Daphne shifted in discomfort, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Nodding, Daphne cast her mind back and replayed the handful of conversations where Olivia and her mystery man were mentioned. Putting it together with her new knowledge of the man’s identity, Daphne decided a summary of what she had been told would be best. “Olivia made her first move back in January I believe, she kissed him after he’d gone to her because of some fight?” 

Hermione scoffed, “I got my promotion to investigate this cave in January, we had a big fight because Ron didn’t want me to take it. I  _ knew _ he’d been with her that night.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Daphne added, “Ron rejected her advance that night.” Hermione waved the comment away and Daphne took that as her cue to continue, “from what I’ve heard, maybe a month after that they slept together for the first time and they carried on right until Ron decided he wanted to give your marriage another chance. Which infuriated Olivia as she thought he’d leave you, for her. She took great pleasure in rejecting him when he came back a couple of months ago.”

“That all certainly fits,” Hermione said when she couldn’t take the silence any longer, it did raise one question though. “Are they together now?”

“Not that I know of,” Daphne answered carefully, “I saw Astoria last week and she didn’t tell me anything new since her last  _ update _ .”

“Interesting,” Hermione murmured, placing Ron’s request for a divorce into the scattered timeline Daphne offered, unsure if she should take solace in the possibility that Ron truly was divorcing her due to the situation they found themselves in, instead of being in a relationship with someone else. Unless, of course, he was and that someone else wasn’t Olivia.

“Is it?” Daphne queried, slightly surprised by Hermione’s calm acceptance of her husband’s transgressions. Yet, Hermione had slept with Draco during their separation so she couldn’t really be angered to hear of Ron doing the same thing. 

“In some ways yes,” Hermione answered, her eyes unfocused as she spoke, “and in some ways no. I think I’m just realising now that Ron and I haven’t truly been in love with each other for quite some time, more in love with the idea of one another, especially if he was sleeping with someone else for most of our separation.”

“I’m sorry,” Daphne offered sincerely, her hand reaching out to take Hermione’s to give it a momentary squeeze. It wasn’t an action she was totally comfortable with, not being one of those hands on kind of people, but given the situation, she felt it was justified.

“It’s not your fault,” Hermione giggled, touched by the sentiment yet feeling slightly adrift, “I think we’re both to blame. Instead of addressing the issues which were pushing us apart, we confided in others. I suppose in some respects, we’d both been emotionally cheating long before anything physical happened.”

Both women allowed silence to settle around them, Hermione lost in her own thoughts about Ron whilst Daphne considered Theo. In her mission to get Hermione thinking about Draco, she had inadvertently made herself question her own lack of commitment with Theo. At what point would she stop being scared? Would she ever stop and allow herself to fully fall for him or did she need to take a leap of faith, like she was encouraging Hermione to do, and trust that Theo would catch her? 

Knowing that the boys would be back soon, if they weren’t already, Daphne picked up her glass and finished it before turning to Hermione. “I’m going to head home, unless you’d like to talk some more? I feel like I’ve sprung quite a lot on you this evening.”

“Nothing more than I can handle,” Hermione assured Daphne with a smile, “I asked for it anyway, so don’t feel bad. It’s actually helped me, so thank you.”

Daphne laughed and stood to leave, “I’m glad to be of service,” she joked, placing her bag over her shoulder, “maybe next time you can come to mine and we’ll stick to lighter subjects?” 

Laughing, Hermione stood to join Daphne and walked with her towards the foyer area, “that would be really great, thank you for this evening Daphne.”

“Anytime Hermione!” Daphne smiled, stepping out into the cool summer evening, “bye!” Daphne called, focusing on her living room where she hoped Theo would be arriving soon as Hermione waved and called out her farewell before turning away to return to her home.

* * *

Arriving back from Blaise’s, Draco felt refreshed. They had spent the whole weekend lounging by the pool enjoying the fine food and drink France had to offer. When they weren’t relaxing, they were flying around Blaise’s mini Quidditch pitch, making the most of the warm weather, or cruising through the winding roads in Blaise’s sports cars. 

Walking through the cottage, Draco shouted out to Hermione, just in case she was already there. Hearing no response, Draco hung up his light jacket and made his way back to his bedroom to quickly unpack. Spelling his clothes back in their designated spaces Draco decided on a quick shower to freshen up before Hermione’s arrival. Draco stripped off before sauntering into his en-suite, noticing his slightly tanned skin as he walked past the mirror.

Draco stood beneath the hot steaming water and thought of Hermione for what seemed like the millionth time. Being away from her, even for a short space of time, felt like an eternity. He had discussed with Blaise and Theo at length the complexities of their relationship before deciding once and for all he would tell Hermione how he felt. Whilst he was fairly sure she returned his feelings, Draco wasn’t sure how she would react. With everything else going on he didn’t want to give her anything else to think about, but the thought of losing her because he kept his feelings secret didn’t sit well with him. 

Realising he was wasting precious time, Draco quickly finished his shower, charming himself dry before chucking on some clothes. Draco bounced down the stairs and looked around for Hermione again. Seeing the cottage still empty, Draco decided to pop to hers. Daphne had already been at Theo’s when they had returned so Draco knew he wouldn’t be interrupting girl talk.

Arriving at the cave a few minutes later Draco strolled in with a newly found spring in his step, happily calling out, “Hermione!” as he headed back to the kitchen. Noticing the dishes were drying next to the sink, Draco moved on to check the bedroom and then to the bathroom. Finding the house empty, Draco returned to the living room, looking around carefully to see if she had left a note. Turning full circle and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Draco felt panic begin to claw at him— something wasn’t right. It can’t have been thirty minutes since his return and Daphne had told him she’d only been waiting at Theo’s for five minutes or so. Scanning the room again, Draco’s eyes were drawn to a strange light as it filtered through the open patio door. Pulling his wand from his sleeve Draco stepped closer to the glass.

Looking out over the cavernous room Draco quickly identified the source of the strange light, his eyes glued to the orange light as he assessed it, whilst his feet found their way out onto the ledge and down the first few stairs before he paused. The orange light was coming from some kind of magical cage, crisscrossing around something on the shoreline. Not something.  _ Someone. _

“Hermione!” Draco shouted, heart pounding as his feet stumbled down the stairs. “Hermione!” he called again, his voice pitching weirdly as panic choked him. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some trick of the cave’s magic— damn it! Why wasn’t she answering him? Why wasn’t she moving?

Slipping on the smooth rock beneath his feet, Draco tumbled down the remaining steps, his head cracking as he fell, landing in a jumbled heap face down in the sand. Draco looked up, Hermione now only a few feet from him, and his body scrambled into action, spraying sand behind him as he moved anxiously towards her. 

Throwing himself through the orange barrier Draco dropped to his knees beside her. “Hermione?” he said softly, trying to calm himself and ignore the way his pulse thudded in his ears. “Hermione, can you hear me?”

Dread pooled in Draco’s stomach as Hermione remained unresponsive. What the hell had happened? Had someone visited Hermione after Daphne’s departure? Had this been some freak accident? What if the twins were…? No. He wasn’t going to think like that— they had to be ok. Draco knew he wouldn’t survive if they weren’t. With shaking hands, Draco cast a basic diagnostic spell, releasing a shaky sigh of relief as a heartbeat echoed around them. “Hermione, I know you can hear me, tell me where it hurts,” Draco pleaded as he examined her.

Moving her matted hair from her face, Draco took in the bloody gash to her forehead and her ice cold blue lips. “Shit, shit, shit,” he muttered under his breath. Running his hands carefully over the rest of her body, Draco checked for any other obvious injuries. Finding none, Draco pondered what to do next. If they had been anywhere else, Draco could have called for help, but without a fireplace and the wards being so strong, it was impossible. Not to mention the fact he had never been able to produce a Patronus, Draco knew he was going to have to move her.

“Hermione,” Draco whispered as he wiped the tears from his face. “Hermione, sweetheart, I’ve got to move you.” With that, Draco carefully maneuvered his arms beneath Hermione’s body, making every effort not to jostle her too harshly. As he did so, Draco noticed she had one hand placed protectively against her small bump. “Gods, Hermione,” Draco mumbled, trying to fight back the dark thoughts circling his mind as he lifted her carefully from the ground.

Hermione whimpered in pain as Draco stood, cradling her body to his, making Draco apologise profusely under his breath, “I’m sorry, I’m so  _ so _ sorry,” as he carefully climbed the steep steps back to her home. Moving through the living room, Draco paused as Hermione suddenly went quiet, anxiety forcing him to pause and search her body for signs of life. “Hermione?” he questioned, waiting for something— anything— to reassure him. 

Almost sagging with relief when Hermione whimpered again, Draco continued moving through the cave. “It’s ok, you’re ok, we’re going to the hospital,” Draco repeated, trying to console Hermione as much as himself. Outside in the fresh air, he apparated them to St Mungo’s.

Appearing in the reception area, Draco felt mildly relieved to see it was empty for once. He walked quickly over to the reception desk and blurted out, “I need help— please— it’s an emergency! I don’t know what happened— I got home and found her like this!”

Looking up from her magazine, the receptionist stared at Hermione dangling limply in Draco’s arms. “What did you do to her?” she questioned, suspicion evident in her tone as Hermione mumbled a faint, “ _ no _ .”

“I didn’t do anything!” Draco retorted hotly, his arms starting to sag under the strain of keeping Hermione close to him. Did this witch not understand what was happening? “I came home and she was just… laid there… not moving. Please! Tell me where to take her!”

“Over there,” she replied in a bored manner pointing to her left where there was a door clearly marked ‘Emergency.’

Huffing, Draco turned, ignoring the burn of his muscles and strode towards the door, pushing it open only to be met with stunned silence before people seemed to realise he needed help. 

A tall gentleman forced his way through the crowd and addressed Draco, “Bring her this way, Mr Malfoy.” Draco nodded and followed the Healer down the corridor, trying desperately to ignore the whispers of,  _ “Is that Draco Malfoy? With Hermione Granger-Weasley?” _ and listen to what the Healer was asking him. “What happened? Mr Malfoy?”

“I… I don’t know,” Draco stuttered as he broke out in a cold sweat, his arms now shaking. He hated hospitals— everything seemed worse here in the harsh clinical light. “She was late coming over so I went to get her and she was just… lying there next to the water, unconscious. Will she be ok?”

“We’ll need to examine her,” the Healer spoke calmly, gesturing for Draco to lie Hermione down on the empty bed.

Moving carefully, Draco lowered Hermione down onto the bed, grimacing as she let out another cry of pain. “I’m sorry,” Draco whispered as he moved back, shaking his hands out to get the blood circulating before wrapping his arms around his body.

“Do you have any idea what happened to her, Mr Malfoy?” the Healer questioned as he withdrew his wand, starting to run his diagnostic spells.

“No,” Draco replied through gritted teeth as his nails dug into his skin. “Like I said, she was just there, cold and on her own.”

“Does she have any existing conditions? Allergies? Anything I should be aware of?” the Healer asked, pausing to wait for Draco’s answer.

“She’s pregnant— about twelve weeks— with twins,” Draco answered slowly, rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet, a feeling of guilt settling around him as he realised he didn’t know much about her general health. “I don’t know of anything else.”

“Ok,” the Healer nodded briskly, rolling up his sleeves before turning back to Hermione. “You can wait outside now.”

“Outside?” Draco questioned. If this Healer thought he was leaving, he was sorely mistaken. “No. I’m staying here until you tell me they’ll be ok.”

“Mr Malfoy,” the Healer spoke sternly this time, not moving his gaze away from Hermione. “You leave now or I’ll have you escorted from this hospital.”

“What?” Draco replied, his jaw going slack as his eyes widened, “I can’t leave her— I have to know they’re ok— you have to tell me!”

“You have five seconds before I call security, Mr Malfoy,” the Healer commanded as he began summoning various bits of medical equipment over. “You are distracting me from my work.”

Gawping at the Healer, Draco turned on his heel and stormed out of the room. There was no way he was going to let that Healer kick him out of the hospital. “Bloody tosser,” Draco fumed under his breath, pacing the corridor outside the room Hermione now occupied.

Being in the corridor was no good; he couldn’t see or hear what was going on inside. As the minutes ticked by, Draco could feel himself being weighed down by the foreboding atmosphere. The whole place was too damn quiet, allowing his mind to fret. What the hell had happened? How had she been hurt? Hermione was so careful— especially now with the twins— she would have never put them in danger. So how had she ended up like this?

As his breathing accelerated Draco focused on one spot on the wall, trying to calm himself but it was no good, the walls were starting to creep in, trapping him right there in limbo, Draco was sure of it. The corridor was getting smaller and Hermione was getting further away. He had to see her, needed to know she was ok. Looking up from the floor Draco realised he had been joined by two security guards. “I left the room,” Draco spoke mutinously. “He told me to leave so I did.”

“That’s not why we’re here, Mr Malfoy,” the first security guard spoke as they both advanced on Draco. 

“Then why are you here?” Draco asked, ceasing his pacing to look at the men before him. They were both dressed in matching Ministry uniforms, their wands holstered conveniently at their forearms. Their hard gaze was pinning Draco to the spot, his muscles freezing in place as they assessed him. 

“Hospital policy,” the second guard grunted, cracking his knuckles as he advanced toward Draco. “You,  _ Mr Malfoy _ , have a record. We are obliged to investigate, for everyone’s safety.”

This could not be happening. “Are you joking? I would never hurt her,” Draco said incredulously, his body vibrating with stress. Did they seriously think he could hurt her? How could they make that snap judgment based on two very stressed conversations? 

“Funny how often we hear that,” the first guard said to the second. “If you’d please come with us, we have some questions.”

“No way,” Draco replied, determined to stand his ground. First he got kicked out of the room, and now they were trying to take him away. This had to be some kind of cosmic joke.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fighter,” the second guard joked to the first, pulling his wand from its holster. “Do you want to do it or shall I?”

“Do what?” Draco asked nervously, his heart now slamming against his ribs as the first guard drew his wand when it suddenly clicked. They still saw him as a Death Eater. “No— hey now— wait! Please! Call Potter! He’ll tell you, call Pott...” Draco’s frightened plea was cut off abruptly as the first guard sent a swift body bind spell straight at his chest. Feeling himself go rigid and crash to the floor, Draco prayed to Merlin that they’d call Potter.


	13. Chapter 13 - Me Without You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Another scary chapter to post! Pretty heavy on the Dramione vibes and there is Ron bashing, which I know some people don’t like, so if you don’t, skip this one yea?
> 
> Alpha love to tectonictigress & TriDogMom as always! :D

_ Take anything you want I'm ready _

_ Take, you can take it I don't care, I don't care _

_ Hey, there's more of me and you've seen nothing _

_ Hey, you've done nothing that I can't repair, I can't repair _

_ No I don't need you, not a little bit _

_ To myself, I've finally admitted it _

_ No I don't need you, not a little bit _

_ Get rid of it, whoa _

_ And now I'm me without you _

_ (And things are 'bout to get real good) _

_ Watch me breathe without you _

_ (And things are 'bout to get real good) _

_ Oh, you're fading so fast _

_ I can hardly see ya when I look back, oh _

_ Now I'm me without you _

_ (And things are 'bout to get real good) _

_ Hey, hey, watch this, things are 'bout to get real good _

* * *

Head hung in shame, Draco tried to fight off the feeling of hopelessness that crept slowly upon him. Hermione was out there somewhere— fighting for her life— and where was he? Sat on the floor of a cold, dark room like some kind of common criminal. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but it felt like too long. He kept his eyes trained on the floor so the walls didn’t creep in and thought of Hermione. 

It caused him physical pain to see her hurt— there was nothing in the world he wouldn’t give to see her smile again. Hell, just to see her not covered in her own blood would be fantastic right about now. Why hadn’t anyone come to speak to him? What was going on? 

Closing his eyes, Draco tried to calm his mind. They had to be ok. She was Hermione Granger, war heroine. She had survived so much more than this. As the trembling in his muscles subsided, Draco heard shouting in the corridor. 

“What the hell do you mean you’ve got him restrained for questioning?” a voice echoed down the corridor. Draco lifted his head slightly and watched for movement outside the door as a muffled voice replied.

“I’ve got a warrant out for the person responsible!” the voice screamed in frustration. A small glimmer of hope flickered inside Draco’s chest as the muffled voice seemed to shrink against the other man's shouting.

“He would never hurt her!” the voice roared as it drew closer, its distorted shadow creeping across the ceiling of Draco’s room. “I am head of the Auror department and Draco Malfoy is no more a Death Eater than I am! Now, let me in that room or I swear to Merlin…”

The door swung open revealing a very red-faced Harry Potter. “Come on!” Harry snapped at Draco, promptly turning away from him and stalking down the corridor.

Struggling to stand with his hands restrained, Draco pushed himself up and followed Harry down the long white hallway, running to catch up to him. “Is she ok?” Draco questioned as he drew level with Harry. “Are they ok?”

“I don’t know,” Harry responded quickly, his hands reaching up to run through his hair. “I was just getting the story when they told me you were restrained.”

“Umm, Mr Potter,” a hesitant voice interrupted from behind them. “Mr Malfoy hasn’t answered the ques—” 

The remainder of the sentence was drowned out as Harry turned and bellowed, “I have released him from your hold! He did not hurt her! Now, stop questioning me and sort out the press in the lobby— I want them gone!”

Hovering behind Harry’s shaking body, Draco watched, shocked. He had never seen Potter so angry. The poor Auror scurried away and Harry turned, storming ahead. Mentally shaking himself, Draco ran after him, unable to believe that Harry Potter of all people was sticking up for him.

“Thanks, Potter,” Draco said quietly as they stopped outside Hermione’s room. Now that he was here, Draco wasn’t sure he could face going in. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs as Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside, not waiting to see if Draco followed.

Mustering his courage, Draco took a deep shaky breath as he crossed the threshold, his eyes immediately finding Hermione nestled safely in the hospital bed. Relief flooded him as he drank her in. The blood had been cleaned from her face and the nasty cut healed. Feeling his knees go weak, Draco stumbled to her bedside, coming to kneel beside her as his legs gave out. 

“Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. I am Healer Benedict,” the Healer said as he dropped Hermione’s notes into the holder at the foot of her bed. “Are you Mrs Granger-Weasley’s next of kin?”

“I am,” Harry replied instantly, turning to give the Healer his full attention as Draco stared at Hermione and her baby bump. “Well, one of them, the other is her husband but he won’t be here.”

“Are you happy for me to speak in front of Mr Malfoy?” Healer Benedict asked, glancing over at Draco as he remained kneeling on the floor. 

“Yes,” Harry replied firmly, nodding at Draco as he smiled weakly in thanks. “What happened? Are they ok?”

“Well,” Healer Benedict began, “I’m not exactly sure what happened, but something attacked Mrs Granger-Weasley’s magical core. The strength of the attack should have killed her and her babies. She must have fallen when the attack happened as she had a few broken ribs and a cracked cheekbone, but we’ve fixed those, no problem. Luckily, they all survived, but we will need to keep her in for observation over the next forty-eight hours. We can’t risk it with her core being vulnerable.”

“What could have attacked her?” Draco asked numbly, trying to flex his arms and failing. Glancing over at the Healer, Draco watched as Harry’s face contorted with rage. 

“I know,” Harry said bitterly, causing Healer Benedict to stare at him in shock. Harry looked at Draco steadily before continuing, “Ron broke the marriage bonds.”

“I’ll kill him,” Draco said icily, shooting to his feet as his bound hands trembled.  _ The Weasel broke their marriage bonds— what a fucking imbecile. Did he not know? Did he not understand? To break their tie so suddenly, with no warning… no wonder the Healer was concerned.  _ “What the fuck was he playing at? I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Draco,” Harry said, quickly moving to stand between Draco and the door, “I’ve got a warrant out for his arrest, which Ron will be expecting. He knows it’s an arrestable offence to break the marriage bonds, hell any bond, without any kind of warning or proper preparation. Leave it to the Aurors.”

“He nearly  _ killed _ them, Potter,” Draco growled in frustration. His muscles burning with the desire to pound that scumbag into the ground as the magic binding his wrists burnt his skin. Getting right in Harry’s face, Draco spoke again, his anger pushing him to do something. “He nearly  _ killed _ them, and I  _ will  _ make him pay.” 

“I know, Draco,” Harry said soothingly, feeling as if he was going up against a wild animal. “I understand, I really do, but let the Aurors do their job. Ours is to be here when she wakes up.” Turning his gaze away from Draco but still keeping him in his peripheral vision, Harry questioned the Healer. “When will she wake up?” 

“If what you’re saying is true, Mr Potter,” Healer Benedict spoke somberly, looking between the two men standing before him. “She is extremely lucky to be alive. Not many people could withstand an attack of that magnitude to their magical core and survive.” As Healer Benedict continued, he stared at Hermione, almost wistfully, “she will wake when she is ready, her body needs to recover.” Turning back to face Harry and Draco, he added, “I will confer with my colleagues for the best course of action. Do you have any further questions?”

“The babies,” Draco croaked, staring at the Healer intently as he walked away toward the door. “Are the babies ok?”

“Babies?” Harry questioned, his voice shooting up an octave. As Draco’s face flashed with remorse, Harry felt his eyebrows draw together in confusion.  _ Was Hermione having twins? When had that happened? Why hadn’t she told him? _ Shaking his head, Harry realised he didn’t care— the important thing was that they were healthy.

“Yes, Mr Malfoy,” Healer Benedict replied softly, his hand resting on the doorknob. “The babies are perfectly healthy.”

“Thank Merlin,” Draco exhaled before turning back to Hermione as the Healer left them alone. “She’s expecting twins. She was going to tell you, Potter. We were just— adjusting— to the news ourselves.”

“Wow,” Harry murmured looking from Hermione’s still form to Draco’s restrained one, the word twins stunning him momentarily. “Sorry, mate,” he muttered, raising his wand to remove the binding spell on Draco’s wrists.

“No problem, Potter,” Draco answered wearily, rubbing his wrists as he perched on Hermione’s bedside. “How did you know? About Weasel?”

“Ginny and I were at her parents for dinner when Ron and Lavender appeared,” Harry answered, his voice full of disgust as Draco’s jaw dropped. “He’s knocked her up, no one even knew they were seeing each other. They came round to announce it, I don’t think I’ve ever been more horrified. Anyway, Lavender said something about wanting to be married before she started to show and I asked how when Ron was still married. Ron made some flippant comment about it not being an issue then left pretty quickly. Not five minutes later I got the Patronus telling me to come here.”

“Fuck,” Draco mumbled shaking his head. “How could he be so stupid? There is a reason the Ministry deals with that shit!”

“I know, mate,” Harry said calmly, looking over at Draco and noting he was covered in blood and sand with a dirty gash across his head. “Did no one deal with your injuries when you came in?”

“Ha,” Draco snorted, holding one of Hermione’s warm hands in his cold ones. “They were only interested in accusing me of hurting her. They saw a Death Eater and treated me as such.”

Pursing his lips, Harry raised his wand, muttering a quick  _ Tergeo _ to remove the dried blood and  _ Episkey _ to sew the skin back together. “That’s not a reason to leave you with an open wound.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders and turned to Harry. “Thanks, Potter. What will happen to Weasley when the Auror’s catch him?”

“We’ll question him, see what he says, gather evidence, the normal stuff,” Harry said, moving to flop into the chair beside Hermione. “If there is enough evidence, he could be locked up until the trial… I just can’t believe he’s done this. As an Auror, he knows what happens when someone breaks the bonds without proper precautions.”

Silence fell between the two men as Harry moved forward, taking Hermione’s other hand, each lost in their own thoughts until Harry spoke quietly. “Thank you.”

Confused, Draco looked up, “For what?” he asked.

“Saving her,” Harry responded, his gaze locked on Hermione. “Finding her, being there for her. If you hadn’t… I don’t… it’s not worth thinking about it.” After everything Harry had promised her he felt as if he’d failed. He should have seen this coming, protected her somehow. 

“I would say my pleasure,” Draco replied calmly, “but nothing about finding her was pleasurable.”

“How did you find her?” Harry asked, his gaze locked on Draco as he shuddered. Harry didn’t want to ask Draco to relive it so soon, knowing he would be asked multiple times in the coming hours. But the Healers had been annoyingly vague when they spoke to him, neglecting to mention any of the details regarding Hermione’s accident. 

“She was late,” Draco spoke slowly, trying to ignore the image of her sprawled on the ground. “We’ve got this little routine, and she was late, so I headed over thinking she was just caught up in research or something after dinner with Daph. I should have realised something was wrong the second I walked in. It was quiet, too quiet.”

Draco shuddered as he thought of her cold blue lips, unaware that Harry was now watching him avidly. “I found her at the bottom of the steps, near the pool— fuck, I forgot— she was in this, like, magical cage, it kept the water off her. She was pretty bloodied up, I reckon she fell down those stairs. I’ve never been so scared. She wasn’t moving, didn’t react until I lifted her. Those fucking wards, I couldn’t have got help in if I’d wanted to.”

“You really love her, don’t you?” Harry questioned, looking at Draco in a whole new light. Harry knew the new Draco was nothing like the old one, but watching him now and how he stared at Hermione, Harry didn’t know how he had missed it before. 

Draco froze, he hadn’t thought about the possibility of being in love with Hermione. Sure, he and Blaise had discussed Draco’s growing feelings towards her, but they had never discussed love. Looking at her now, Draco wondered how that thought had never crossed his mind. He adored everything about her, worshipped her and fought for her. No one hurt his Hermione. But it was more than that, Draco realised. The highlight of his morning was getting to wake up next to her, his days dragged without her and he slept soundly with her body curled against his. 

Draco loved the bird's nest that was her hair, the warm chocolate brown curls rebelling against anything Hermione tried. Draco adored the dimples in her cheeks as she smiled, usually with the accompanying flush of embarrassment at something Draco had said. He loved everything about her.

Fuck, Draco thought, he was in love with her. He was in love with Hermione Granger.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Harry said delicately, standing to leave the room. “I’m going to go talk to the Healers and check in with the Aurors.”

Draco wasn't sure how much time passed, but as he sat staring at Hermione, the realisation that he was in love with her sunk in. How could he have not known? Everything in his life centered around the unconscious witch, and Draco would be damned if he let anything get in his way. He loved Hermione and nothing was going to change that.

“Hermione,” Draco whispered sitting on the edge of her bed, clutching her hand to his heart. “I love you. I'm here for you, even if the babies aren’t mine.”

Harry came back two hours later to find Draco asleep next to Hermione, still holding on to her hand. “Draco,” Harry whispered, causing Draco to wake with a start. “Sorry. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I can stay here.”

“No,” Draco replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I want to be here when she wakes up.”

“The Healers reckon she might be out for a few days,” Harry said, quickly adding, “Which is fine, her body needs the rest. Go grab a shower and some of her stuff and then come back here. I'll watch her while you’re gone.”

Whilst tempted by Harry’s offer, Draco still couldn’t will himself to leave Hermione’s bed side. “Nah, I’m ok Potter.” Turning his attention back to the sleeping witch, Draco missed the look of concern that flashed across Harry’s face, after observing them for a moment Harry left again.

Harry returned a few hours later with Ginny. Draco hadn’t moved from his spot next to Hermione and jumped as Ginny gripped his shoulder, the warmth of her touch bringing him back to the present. “How is she?” she asked quietly. 

“Still asleep,” Draco replied hoarsely. “Healers have been in every hour to check on her but nothing’s changed.”

“Did they say anything?” Harry questioned as he wrapped his arm around a now weeping Ginny. 

“Not really,” Draco answered, coughing to clear his dry throat. “They’re going to move her up to Spell Damage for observation.”

“You need to get some rest mate,” Harry spoke calmly, looking at Draco’s haggard complexion.

Draco shook his head, not taking his eyes off Hermione. “I want to be here when she wakes up.”

“You will be,” Ginny replied smoothly, her voice putting Draco at ease. “If they are planning to move her, they don’t expect her to wake up yet. Go home, shower and have a rest, we’ll be here. Then come back with her things, you know she’ll hate to wake up in a hospital gown.”

Draco groaned out loud, rubbing his free hand across his face. He knew he needed a shower, and a change of clothes sounded amazing right now. Draco shook his head and spoke, his voice rough, “I can’t leave her. Not now, not ever.”

Ginny gasped at Draco’s words, her hand fluttering to her chest. “You’re not leaving her Draco. You’re just… popping out. We’ll stay right here until you come back.”

“Thanks, Ginny,” Draco replied sincerely, looking at the pair of them gratefully. Sometimes it was still a shock to know they cared for him after everything he had put them through. “Maybe I will head back, just quickly.”

“Go,” Harry urged, sitting down on the hard chair next to Hermione’s bed as Ginny made herself comfortable. “One of us will come get you if anything changes.”

Draco hovered, wringing his hands as he looked between Harry and Hermione. “I don’t know, Potter…”

“Draco,” Ginny spoke firmly, knowing Draco as well as Harry had been up the whole night with her. “Go. Hermione needs you refreshed. If they move her we’ll leave a message at the desk. If she wakes, one of us will come get you.”

“Fine,” Draco grumbled, returning to Hermione to place a quick kiss on her forehead before heading for the door. “You come get me if anything changes,  _ anything _ . I’ll only be thirty minutes.”

“See you soon,” Harry spoke calmly, smiling at his wife who was watching Draco in wonder as he swiftly left the room.

Ginny turned to Harry and spoke in an awed voice, “He  _ is _ in love with her!”

“Yes,” Harry replied smugly. “Yes, he is.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N — Just a massive thank you to TectonicTigress & TriDogMom for their alpha skills and to all you lovely people reading and reviewing! It really does help to keep the words flowing — we’re now up to chapter twenty pre-written!

It had been five days. Five fucking days and she still hadn’t opened her eyes. Draco felt like a man possessed. His eyes never strayed from her still form, waiting for a movement, anything to break the monotony. The ticking of the clock behind him set him on edge, a constant reminder that she still hadn’t moved. Every now and again his eyes would fall shut, his body trying desperately to get some sleep, but as soon as they did Draco would hear her calling out to him for help and he’d wrench his eyes open as his heart pounded to be confronted by her still sleeping face. It was going to drive him mad, but he wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t stop waiting for that sign that she was there. 

On the sixth day, Hermione moved, just a little bit, but it was enough to send Draco’s heart into overdrive. Feeling it pound against his chest, Draco watched as Hermione’s face twisted in pain. Draco leapt up and wrenched the door open, shouting madly for a Healer before racing back to Hermione’s side. 

Hermione whimpered and writhed against her pillows, her eyes moving wildly beneath her closed lids. “Hermione,” Draco spoke softly as he wiped a fresh tear from her cheek. “It’s ok, you’re ok.” 

Hermione calmed momentarily before sitting up suddenly and heaving over the side of the bed, Draco moving to hold back her hair even as her sick covered his shoes and the floor around him. He rubbed small circles on her back until she finished, her body then collapsing back against the bed as Draco muttered a quick Scourgify. 

Hermione’s chest heaved as she slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the bright sun as it poured into the room. Finding Draco’s concerned gaze fixed on her, Hermione’s lower lip trembled as she recalled the absolute pain before the darkness. “Wha—,” Hermione tried to ask, her voice hoarse from lack of use. “Wha— …  _ Draco _ ,” Hermione sobbed as Draco wrapped his arms around her.

“Ssssh,” Draco soothed as she shook in his arms, unable to believe she was finally awake. “I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

“Ms Granger?” the young medi-witch spoke tentatively. Hermione looked up, disorientated as she tried to figure out what had happened to her. “The Aurors are waiting outside, may I check your vitals before they come in?”

“Aurors?” Hermione croaked, her eyes flitting between the anxious medi-witch and Draco’s now unsettled face.

“I trust you summoned them discreetly?” Draco spoke coldly, glaring at the visibly nervous medi-witch.

“Y-yes, Mr Malfoy,” she stuttered in reply.

Draco turned to Hermione, his face now wiped of his cold glare. “The Aurors are here to see what you remember,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “I can’t tell you anything until you’ve spoken to them. I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he continued, kissing her knuckles in apology.

Hermione studied Draco’s face carefully, seeing only absolute sincerity. She turned to the medi-witch and nodded sadly. “It hurts,” Hermione muttered as she turned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. 

“Where does it hurt, Ms Granger?” the medi-witch asked as she stepped forward to begin her diagnostics.

“Inside,” Hermione sighed. “Here,” she said, using the hand Draco had released to rub across her chest. 

“I’ll let your Healer know,” the medi-witch replied gently, charming the diagnostic notes onto her records. “What you’re feeling is expected after the trauma you’ve been through.”

Hermione flinched. “Trauma?” she questioned, looking at Draco expectantly for the answer.

“The Aurors will explain,” Draco replied, shooting the medi-witch a look. “Are you done yet?” he snapped impatiently. The sooner this was over the sooner he could talk to Hermione. 

“Y-yes, Mr Malfoy,” she muttered, backing away from Hermione. “I’ll report to Ms Granger’s Healer and let the Aurors in, if that’s ok?”

“Yes,” Draco replied sternly before turning back to Hermione and perching himself next to her on the bed.

“Why did she keep calling me  _ Ms Granger _ , Draco?” Hermione questioned, watching as Draco squirmed under her hard gaze.

Luckily for him, the door opened and Harry walked in with two unknown Aurors. “They’ll explain,” Draco answered with an apologetic smile. He knew Hermione hated secrets and didn’t want to be the one keeping them from her. 

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed warmly, his face relaxing with relief to see Hermione awake. “We’ll talk in a bit,” Harry continued turning more serious. “I can’t officially debrief you as I’m too close to the case. My colleagues, Harper and Connolly, will take it from here.”

Hermione nodded at the newcomers, feeling slightly self-conscious as she lay in nothing but her pyjamas. Wait a minute, Hermione thought as the men drew closer to her bed, why was she wearing her pyjamas from home? How long had she been out for? 

“Ms Granger,” Harper began briskly. “What is the last thing you remember before waking up here?”

“I was at home,” Hermione answered thinking back. “Daphne had just left and I decided to go for a swim. I was… I was walking down to the pool…” Hermione paused as her stomach rolled, “I felt sick.” Hermione stated, twiddling her thumbs. “I felt sick and it passed, then there was this… this pain… it was so hot. I felt it… I felt it rip through me and I, oh!” Hermione exclaimed, her hands dropping to cradle her bump. She turned to Draco and asked desperately. “Are they ok?”

“Yes,” Draco replied sincerely, smiling as Hermione relaxed and rubbed her hands over her bump protectively. “Somehow they weren’t hurt at all.”

“You don’t remember anything else?” Harper interrupted, glaring at Draco. “There wasn’t anyone or anything else near you?”

“No,” Hermione responded firmly, not liking how Connolly was eyeing Draco. “I was completely alone, the last thing I remember is being stood on the steps. Harry and Ginny were busy and Draco was out of town with Theo visiting Blaise.”

“Ok, Ms Granger,” Connolly interjected as Harper pocketed his notes. “Your statement corroborates with Miss Greengrass’ and Mr Malfoy’s. We are currently investigating the possibility that Mr Ronald Weasley unlawfully broke your marriage bonds thereby causing significant injury to yourself.”

“By possibility, they mean certainty,” Draco spat as the Aurors gave him a filthy glare, unable to hold his temper as they spoke so lightly of the incident. “And by significant injury they mean nearly killing you.”

“Draco,” Harry said awkwardly. “They are just doing their job, you know we can’t state facts until after the trial.” 

“Ron did this?” Hermione asked, meekly looking between Draco and Harry as they shifted awkwardly. She was briefly flung back to the memory of discussing marriage bonds with Ron shortly after their engagement. They had many lengthy conversations about the bonds, for Ron, they were an important part of the wedding ceremony. Yet, for Hermione, it wasn’t something so clean cut. She wanted to understand how the bonds work. Eventually, Hermione realised that the bonds were given in every magical ceremony, she was willingly tying herself to Ron so why would she not add in the magical bond and keep with tradition? Looking back on it now, Hermione wondered if she should have put up more of a fight. “Tell me,” Hermione commanded her voice wavering slightly as the boys looked at each other. 

“You’re dismissed,” Harry told Harper and Connolly who nodded in Harry’s direction as they left the room.

Hermione glared at Harry and Draco who were trying to avoid her gaze. “Tell me everything, now,” she demanded as both men shared a look before sitting down on either side of her.

Harry began calmly, knowing Draco had done more than his share of storytelling since the accident. “Your magical core was attacked and I’m fairly certain it was because Ron broke the marriage bonds. He um… he came to dinner at Molly and Arthur’s to announce—  _ shit _ — to announce that Lavender is pregnant.” Hermione flinched at Harry’s words but he continued, “we argued and they left, minutes later I got the call that you had been bought in. Draco had been taken away as they suspected he’d done something—”

“But Draco would never hurt me!” Hermione exclaimed her face growing red with anger, she had half a mind to go and tell them exactly what she thought. “What stupid son of a bit—,”

“Hermione,” Draco spoke calmly, gripping her hand, but smirking slightly at her anger. “To some I will always be a Death Eater. Now let Harry finish, please.”

Hermione nodded grumpily and Harry continued. “Once I got Draco, we saw the Healer who explained about your core, I told them about Ron and they went to do more research but that was six days ago…”

Hermione stared open-mouthed at Harry, “I’ve been out for six days?” she asked sadly as the severity of the situation sunk in. She had been unconscious for six whole days because Ron had broken their marriage bonds, Hermione wasn’t sure how she could even begin to process that. 

“Your body needed to recover,” Draco spoke softly avoiding Hermione’s gaze, he didn’t want her to see the fear which had been controlling his thoughts. “The Healers don’t know why but something about that cave saved your life, if you had been anywhere else… you… you might have…” Draco stopped, unable to say anymore. 

“I might have died?” Hermione asked quietly watching as Draco kept his face hidden but nodded in answer to her question.

“You were so lucky Hermione,” Harry said as Draco’s body shook with silent tears. “The Healers have never seen anyone survive an attack of that magnitude and the fact that the babies were completely unharmed has baffled them.”

“What about Ron?” Hermione questioned quietly, causing Draco to look up at her suddenly in disbelief. “Was he hurt when he broke the bonds? Where is he now?”

Confused Harry answered slowly, “As far as I know he wasn’t hurt. Currently, he’s in one of the Ministry cells whilst the case is put together.”

“Oh,” Hermione muttered sadly, looking away from Harry’s concerned gaze and Draco’s red-rimmed eyes to stare down at her bump. “Did you know, when the bonds get broken, the pain experienced by both sides is linked to how much they were in love when the bonds were made? I guess I was more in love with Ron…”

Silence echoed around the room, Harry and Draco stunned into silence as Hermione’s words rang in their ears.

“It’s fine,” Hermione continued briskly, hastily wiping away a few fallen tears. “We’re fine. What is he being charged with Harry?”

Looking up slowly Harry met Hermione’s questioning stare and turned to Draco who nodded slightly, “Attempted murder through unlawful bond breaking,” Harry said swiftly, trying to minimise the hurt by saying it quickly.

Hermione fell back on her pillows and closed her eyes, how had her life become so complicated? One minute she’s happily married then she’s in the middle of a separation. Then she’s back with her husband who swiftly leaves her upon hearing of her pregnancy. Now she was in hospital, following an accident of his doing. Would life ever calm down? In an attempt to break the silence that had engulfed them Hermione asked, “Is that why they keep calling me Ms Granger? The divorce is done?”

“Magically yes,” Draco answered quickly, wanting to change the subject to anything except Hermione’s near death experience. “But legally no, you just have to sign the paperwork.”

Harry stood up and leaned over to place a kiss on Hermione’s forehead, “I’ve got to go,” he said gently. “I need to let Ginny and your boss know you’re awake and although I’m not allowed to be directly involved, I need to see how the case is progressing. I’ll see you later.”

“Love you, Harry,” Hermione sighed as he waved from the door, glancing at Draco Hermione asked. “What else have I missed?”

Draco sighed, what hadn’t she missed? “You caused quite a stir Hermione,” Draco said lightly, standing to fill a glass with water and hand it to Hermione who took it gratefully. “The first day I could barely get near you. It felt like the whole Auror department was in here with various people from your department all shouting questions at the poor Healer, I’ve never seen a man look so stressed.” 

Shaking his head Draco repressed a shudder as he thought of handing over his memory. “Everyone had to give statements, Daphne and I had to give our memories of that evening to the Aurors. Once they had the statements the Aurors cleared out. Then your boss wanted to know where your research was so they could try and figure out what protected you.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked Draco, looking at him quizzically. “How was I protected?”

“When I… found you there was this like, orange cage of light around you,” Draco explained, trying to describe what he saw without reliving it again. “You landed in the water, face down, but this cage— it protected you— you could have drowned had it not been keeping the water away from you. I got soaked picking you up and you were freezing cold, so cold your lips had gone blue but you were totally dry. It was the strangest thing.”

“Hmm,” Hermione hummed as she considered what Draco had just said. “I wonder if it was the runes on the bottom of the pool?”

“I don’t know,” Draco replied, noticing the spark of curiosity light in Hermione’s eyes. Before she could get too carried away he looked at her sternly, “but you’re not going near that place for a very long time.”

“We’ll see,” Hermione retorted as Draco crossed his arms and glared at her. Not wanting to argue with him Hermione asked another question, “so that was the first day, what about the rest?”

Draco frowned at Hermione’s distraction attempt but went along with it anyway, he had other plans to keep her away from that cave. “Potter popped by with your parents on the second day, which reminds me, you told them everything?”

“I had to, Draco,” Hermione replied sincerely. “I don’t keep secrets from them, not after what I did.”

Knowing Hermione was referring to the fact she had wiped their memories during the war Draco nodded and moved on. “I’ll have to get Potter to tell them you’re awake, I still don’t understand how to work that blasted telephone thing.” 

Hermione giggled, watching as Draco’s face transformed into a breathtaking smile. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed that laugh,” Draco said truthfully, making Hermione blush. “Anyway, on the third day, Molly and Arthur stopped by which was a bit awkward to begin with.”

Hermione’s smile fell from her face, “I take it Ron told them everything?” she asked sadly.

“Yes,” Draco replied, hating how the mere mention of the Weasleys caused Hermione’s face to drop. “However, Potter did give them the full story. Naturally, they’re shocked but they still see you as part of the family. Molly has already decided on a colour for the baby's first jumper. I didn’t break the news about it being twins though.”

Smiling slightly, Hermione gently rubbed her bump and spoke to it quietly. “You hear that? You’re both going to get a Weasley jumper! Does Harry know?”

“Harry was in the room when the Healer mentioned the twins,” Draco answered a little distractedly, he had just realised if the twins were his, there was a whole vault full of family heirlooms they would be entitled to. 

“Anyway,” he said, swiftly changing the conversation so his thoughts didn’t linger. “Blaise, Theo and Daphne visited the following day and brought  _ The Prophet _ with them. Somehow they got all the sordid details from a  _ reliable source _ which prompted my mother to visit the following day.”

Horror flashed across Hermione’s face as her heart pounded. “The press? Your mother?  _ All _ the details? How?” Hermione questioned in rapid succession, she needed room to breathe, adjust, recover, not worry about the press watching her every move. 

Mentally kicking himself Draco answered carefully, perching himself back on the bed beside her. “The press believes you and I had an affair prompting Ron to leave you for Lavender and I am using my  _ influence _ to get Ron put in jail.” Draco scoffed as he recalled reading the trashy article, “they’ve made themselves look stupid as everyone knows my name is worthless. Plus, Harry got the Auror department to put out a statement confirming the ‘facts’ of the story are incorrect.”

Rubbing her hands across her face Hermione sighed loudly. “Do I even want to know what your mother said?”

“She was fine,” Draco reassured Hermione. “Wanted to hear my side of the story and she would like to meet you, you know, properly.”

“Seriously?” Hermione screeched, sitting bolt upright in bed which made her head spin. “Your mother wants to meet me? Oh god, oh god, oh god!”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Draco soothed as he moved to hold Hermione, she needed to be resting not flapping about worrying over nothing. “You don’t have to, she only wants to meet you as we’re so close now. Mother would like you to know her as who she is, not as the frightened woman who made the wrong choices in the war.”

Hermione sobered at Draco’s words, “your mother saved Harry. Lying to Voldemort's face took courage and gave us Harry back. If she hadn’t done that, who knows what would have happened.”

A knock at the door interrupted the pair, they watched as the door slowly opened to reveal another Healer. “Hello Ms Granger, I’m Healer Turpentine, I’ve been looking after you since you arrived.”

“Thank you,” Hermione responded, a little lost for words as the Healer just stood and stared at them. 

“I’m here to check your vitals again and then I have a question to ask you, if you’re up for it?” Healer Turpentine asked as she pulled Hermione’s notes from the end of the bed.

“Of course,” Hermione replied politely as Draco moved to sit on the chair beside the bed, his eyes narrowing at the Healer as she came closer.

“Brilliant,” Healer Turpentine said, flashing a perfect smile as she moved to stand beside Hermione with her wand poised. “Lie still please.”

Hermione nodded and rested back against the pillows, staying completely still as Healer Turpentine completed various examinations, diligently noting all the results down, “All done, thank you Ms Granger.”

“What was this question you wanted to ask me?” Hermione asked curiously as she got comfortable.

Healer Turpentine shifted on her feet, evidently uncomfortable she began speaking delicately. “I’ve seen in your notes you are, um, unsure as to the paternity of your children?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied bluntly, not understanding where she was going with this. She looked to Draco to see his face had creased in agitation with one of his fists balled up tightly. 

“I only mention it because we have recently developed a new way to test for the paternity, which doesn’t pose any threat to the baby,” Healer Turpentine told Hermione, wringing her hands nervously. 

“What is this new way?” Hermione questioned as Draco sat forward on his chair, now absorbed in the conversation. 

“We take a blood sample from the mother and potential father and compare the DNA within each sample. From around seven weeks there is a small amount of the fetuses DNA present in your blood which increases as the pregnancy progresses,” Healer Turpentine explained. “As it’s your blood we’d be testing there is no threat to the baby.”

Hermione looked at Draco, his eyes burning with desperation. Knowing the paternity of the baby was important to them both and Hermione wasn’t about to hold up the process. “You can take my blood,” Hermione answered the Healer whilst keeping her eyes on Draco.

Happiness flooded Draco’s heart as he stared at Hermione, her face hopeful, “mine too.” Draco added quickly as Hermione beamed at him.

“We only need yours Mr Malfoy,” Healer Turpentine replied. “When Ms Granger was admitted we took some for the routine tests.”

“No problem,” Draco responded, eagerly rolling up his shirt sleeve to get the procedure started. “Can you take it now?”

“Yes,” Healer Turpentine said, surprised by his eagerness. “Of course.”

Draco held out his forearm to Healer Turpentine, looking up when she let out a small gasp. Realising his mistake Draco hurried out a quick apology as he tried to pull his sleeve back down. “I’m sorry, I forget I have it, I’ll cov—” 

“It’s not a problem Mr Malfoy,” Healer Turpentine responded quickly, pulling herself together as Draco froze. “It just surprised me, I’ve never seen one before.”

“Lucky you,” Draco muttered as Healer Turpentine pulled a vial from her pocket. Using her wand she painlessly opened Draco’s vein and siphoned the blood into the vial, performing a quick healing spell when she was finished.

“Thank you Mr Malfoy, Ms Granger we’ll have the results soon,” Healer Turpentine informed them as she walked towards the door. “Unless you have any further questions I’ll leave you.”

“No,” Hermione replied thankfully, although she’d only been awake a short while she was ready to go back to sleep. “I don’t have any further questions, thank you.”

Nodding at Hermione, Healer Turpentine left the room. “I guess there’s one good thing to come from this then,” Hermione said to Draco who looked at her blankly. “If that test works we’ll know who the father is.”

“Yea,” Draco replied a little dazed, smirking at Hermione. “Yea we will.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A slightly shorter chapter but an important one nonetheless! Thanks as always to TectonicTigress & TriDogMom for the endless encouragement.

When the sun rose the next morning glorious and bright, Hermione could be found gazing out of her window absently tracing patterns on her slightly rounded stomach with Draco sleeping soundly beside her. The burning pain which had lingered through the day yesterday was now gone and Hermione felt like going home. Although she had been unconscious for the majority of the time, she was sick of the hospital. 

The door to her room opened slowly and Healer Turpentine poked her head around the door, seeing Hermione awake she stepped in quietly. “Good morning Ms Granger,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thank you,” Hermione replied, keeping her voice light to avoid waking Draco. “When can I go home?”

“I hope today,” Healer Turpentine smiled back, glancing at Draco’s sleeping form. “We’ll need to run some more tests, as long as they show improvement I have no problem releasing you into Mr Malfoy’s care.”

“Draco’s care?” Hermione questioned raising an eyebrow. 

“Your core is still extremely weak,” Healer Turpentine answered calmly. “If we don’t release you into his care, you have to stay here until your core is strong enough, which we have no timeframe for given the severity of your attack. Mr Malfoy has already put together a care plan which has been approved by myself, the Aurors and the Ministry.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Whilst she logically understood the precautions she didn’t like the idea of so many people having a say in what she could and couldn’t do.

“I’ll come back in a few hours to start the tests,” Healer Turpentine stated before leaving the room.

What was this care plan Draco had put into place? Why hadn’t he mentioned anything about it? Did Harry know? Hermione closed her eyes as her brain went into overdrive, all she wanted to do was go home but even that had to be signed off.

Feeling her skin prickle with agitation Hermione shook Draco gently until he opened his eyes. “What is this  _ care plan  _ you’ve spoken to everyone else about but me?” Hermione asked imperiously her agitation building as Draco looked at her sleepily. 

“It’s meant to be a surprise,” Draco grumbled trying to wrap himself back around Hermione.

“Tell me, Draco,” Hermione commanded, watching as Draco flinched at the harshness in her voice.

Draco mumbled incoherently under his breath as Hermione glared at him. “Just remember you made me ruin the surprise,” Draco answered, his voice bitter as he glared right back. “We’re going to France, specifically Blaise’s château out in the country. Complete peace and quiet so you can relax, his wards are stronger than yours so no one will disturb us, no one will know we're there.”

Slightly satisfied with the look of shock on Hermione’s face Draco waited in silence for her response. “Y-you're right,” Hermione stammered as Draco's eyes went wide in disbelief. “I totally ruined the surprise, I'm so sorry Draco.” Never, would Hermione have thought something so wonderful could be considered a care plan. 

“I'll forgive you if you let me go back to sleep— now,” Draco answered as Hermione nodded, allowing him to settle back into her side. “You should never wake a sleeping dragon, Hermione.”

With those last words Draco closed his eyes and just like that, he was out like a light. Leaving Hermione to stare at him dumbfounded. It was then she noticed the dark rings beneath his eyes and the slightly sunken look to his stubbly cheeks, had he not been eating and sleeping properly? 

Scolding herself, Hermione realised that no, of course he hadn’t. If she knew anything for certain it was that Draco Malfoy had not left her side since her accident and probably never would. Settling down next to him, Hermione pondered their unique situation. At some point she was going to have to address her ever-increasing feelings for Draco, feelings she was now certain he reciprocated. 

A few hours later Hermione and Draco were interrupted by a knock at the door, opening her eyes, Hermione found Healer Turpentine standing at the foot of her bed with a very amused Harry.

“All right there Hermione?” he asked grinning as Hermione realised she had fully wrapped herself around Draco in her sleep. Struggling to untangle their limbs Hermione poked her tongue out at Harry as Draco laughed at her flustered state.

“Mr Malfoy,” Healer Turpentine said as she beckoned him to stand beside her. “As discussed, providing Ms Granger's vitals have improved, we are happy to release her into your care. However,” Healer Turpentine continued as Draco grinned at Hermione, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “This is dependent on you being able to complete the checks yourself perfectly and recognise any cause for concern.”

Listening to the Healer’s words, Draco sobered quickly. If he messed this up he wouldn’t be able to get Hermione out of here. “I understand,” Draco replied firmly, pulling his wand from his pocket. “My top priority is the well being of Hermione and the babies.”

“Well then,” Healer Turpentine responded, pulling Hermione’s records and handing them to Draco. “Please proceed Mr Malfoy.”

Nervously, Draco moved to stand beside Hermione, gulping as he asked, “please lie still,” before beginning a series of complicated wand movements above her now still body. After a few minutes, Draco stopped and carefully assessed the parchment in his hands. To him, everything looked good, but he wasn’t about to get his hopes up. Handing the parchment over to Healer Turpentine with a quiet, “I think everything is normal.” Draco waited patiently for her assessment. 

Carefully checking Draco’s results and comparing them against a few of her own, Healer Turpentine looked up from the parchment and spoke directly to Hermione. “Once I sign these off, you are free to leave with Mr Malfoy.” 

Sighing with relief Hermione grinned at Draco as he let out a shout of joy, “However, I must impress the seriousness of your condition Ms Granger.” Healer Turpentine continued sternly, “you are not to attempt the slightest bit of magic, even the smallest use of your magic could leave your core empty. As your case is so unique we’re not one hundred percent sure what would happen but we don’t want to find out. No magic. Under any circumstances, do you understand?”

Lost for words Hermione looked at Draco, then to Harry. Both of their faces serious as they looked back at her, “Of course,” Hermione stated stunned. “It’ll be just like before I found out I was a witch. Is there anything else?”

“If you begin to feel unwell or notice anything out of the ordinary, tell Mr Malfoy,” Healer Turpentine replied firmly, doing her best to ensure they all understood. “It is his responsibility to notify us immediately of any changes and we will come to you. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to travel by magic if you are feeling unwell. We have arranged a portkey for your journey to France as that won’t affect your magic and I understand Mr Malfoy has the best French Healer on standby if you require urgent attention.” 

“Don’t worry Hermione,” Draco spoke softly as she stared open-mouthed at him. “Nothing is ever going to hurt you again, you will have my undivided attention.”

“Like she doesn’t anyway,” Harry joked, hoping to lighten the atmosphere. Smirking when Hermione threw one of her many pillows at him.

“I’ll be back in a while with your discharge papers Ms Granger,” Healer Turpentine said, placing Hermione’s records back in their place. “Mr Malfoy, if you would come with me I have a few more things to go over with you.”

“Of course,” Draco replied, quickly turning to place a kiss on Hermione’s cheek before following Healer Turpentine out of the door.

“Looking forward to your holiday then Hermione?” Harry asked casually as she sat still in shock.

“You knew?!” Hermione squeaked at Harry as he grinned at her. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”

“Of course I knew. Draco asked if I thought you’d be ok with it,” Harry replied laughing as he threw her pillow back at her gently. “Plus Kingsley and I had to sign it off, along with your boss and Healer Turpentine.”

“Gods!” Hermione moaned as she buried her face into her pillow. “I’m not sure if I should be delighted at the thought of leaving all this behind or mortified that you all knew and I didn’t! What are people going to think? I can’t just vanish with Draco…”

“You can and you are Hermione,” Harry answered gently pulling the pillow away from her. “I’m not sure you realise how close you came to… well, let’s not go there. With Ron’s arrest being made public and the press buzzing around, you’re not going to get a break. Blaise’s place can offer the peace and security you need to recover, plus he was more than willing to help Draco. You both need the time away, not to mention you need to figure out what you are to each other.”

Blushing Hermione threw herself back on her pillows covering her now pink face with her hands. “When did this get so complicated?” 

“Hermione,” Harry said softly, pulling on her hands so she was looking at him. “We’ve not had an easy year since we started Hogwarts, why would it be any different now?”

Looking at her dearest friend Hermione realised he was right, their lives never had and never would be easy. Being part of the Golden Trio had its perks as well as its downfalls, “I’m going to freshen up,” Hermione told Harry standing up slowly. “If there’s the possibility I’m leaving today, I’m doing so in clean, fresh clothes.”

Laughing Harry hovered near Hermione, just in case she lost her balance as she slowly padded her way to the bathroom. “Draco bought a bag of your things over, just hung up in there.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Hermione said gratefully, looking forward to a nice hot shower as she stepped into the bathroom. 

“Be careful,” Harry reminded Hermione sternly, earning himself a patented Hermione Granger scowl. “Just saying,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” Hermione answered with a roll of her eyes. Shutting the door behind her, Hermione proceeded to strip off her pyjamas and step under the shower head. Remembering to turn it on with the taps instead of with magic.

Pacing anxiously outside of the bathroom door, Harry kept pausing to check his watch and listen to the steady stream of water. It felt like Hermione had been in there for an eternity, he had to stop himself on more than one occasion from bursting in, just to check she was ok. Harry knew it was just his overprotective brother instincts kicking in, but he couldn’t help it. 

How many times had he watched Hermione push herself to breaking point, just to prove she could do something? Knowing what she just survived Harry would never forgive himself if anything happened to her due to a lapse in his judgment now. As another minute ticked by Harry briefly wondered if Draco realised what he’d gotten himself into. Just as he was about to reach out and crack the door, it opened in front of him and Hermione appeared, looking thoroughly refreshed and happy. 

Standing in the door frame Hermione smirked at Harry, knowing full well what he’d just been about to do. “Have you been waiting for me?” Hermione questioned as Harry moved to sit down.

“Yes,” Harry answered truthfully as Hermione vigorously rubbed her wet hair, casting him a look of disdain as she attempted to comb through her knots.

“I’m perfectly capable of showering alone Harry,” Hermione replied grimacing in pain as the comb got caught in her curls. “Damn thing!”

“I know,” Harry acknowledged bowing his head. “I was just paranoid, I’m sorry.”

“That’s ok,” Hermione replied, wrenching the comb through her hair once more. “I forgot how bloody difficult it was to sort my hair out without magic,” Hermione huffed as Harry smiled at her. His eyes looking her up and down, noticing for the first time how pregnancy suited her. “What?” Hermione asked nervously as she noticed Harry’s gaze.

“It’s just…” Harry began trying to explain how different she looked without upsetting her. “I hadn’t noticed how much you’ve changed— in a good way— it suits you, Hermione.”

“Oh,” Hermione said assessing her outfit in the mirror, she had chosen a red tank top and her black harem pants because they were the comfiest clothes in the bag. However, on closer inspection, Hermione realised how the tank top clung to her accentuated curves. With the loose waistband of the pants cradling her bump, before she could say anymore Draco walked in, followed by Healer Turpentine.

“Oh good you're up,” Healer Turpentine said happily brandishing three bits of parchment. “I have your discharge papers here along with strict instructions you have to follow.” Hermione nodded her head at Healer Turpentine’s words, “I also have the results of the paternity test. Would you like to do this privately?” 

Hermione froze, her eyes locked with Draco’s as he looked back at her. This was it, Hermione thought as her heart raced, the moment of truth. Was she ready to know? After all their waiting this was what they had been waiting for. 

Drawing strength from Draco, Hermione spoke, a slight tremor in her voice. “You can do it now,” she answered, breathing deeply as she prepared herself for the truth.

“Ok,” Healer Turpentine answered. Calmly opening the parchment she observed the couple as she prepared herself to speak, “Mr Malfoy— Mr Malfoy is the father.”

Draco stood numb with shock, he was the father. He was going to have a baby with Hermione Granger! Not just one baby, two! Before he could even move, Hermione had launched herself at him, the comb in her hand clattering to the floor as she crashed into him with an almighty force. As her legs wrapped around his waist, Draco automatically cradled her body against his. His arms snaking around her small frame as he nuzzled his face into her wet tangled hair.

“Oh my god,” Hermione whispered as Draco held onto her shaking body. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Unable to do anything but hold her as she shook, Draco breathed in her scent, feeling her tears run down her face and onto his shirt where she nestled into his neck. “I don’t believe it, I can’t, oh my…”

“I’m the father,” Draco eventually croaked sometime later pulling back to look at Hermione, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It’s...we’re…” words were suddenly not enough for Draco, a mixture of happiness, shock and pride coursing through his system. Looking into Hermione’s warm, blazing eyes, _the eyes of the_ _mother of his children_. Draco crushed his lips to hers, his hands gripping her tightly where he held her. 

Gasping as desire pounded through her veins, Hermione pulled Draco closer, threading her hands into his hair as he deepened their kiss. His tongue expertly caressing hers as he savoured her taste, their kiss, however, was cut short by Harry’s laughter and Healer Turpentine’s not so discreet cough. 

Realising where they were and who was with them, Hermione carefully loosened her grip on Draco. Allowing him to stand her on the floor beside him, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” Draco joked as Hermione’s face flamed next to him.

“Not a problem,” Healer Turpentine said tightly. “Here is the paperwork, you just need to hand it to the desk as you leave, don’t hesitate to contact us if anything changes.”

“Of course Healer,” Draco replied quickly, trying his best to act mature even though he was grinning ear to ear. 

Nodding in Draco’s direction, Healer Turpentine left, with what sounded like a tut, as the door closed behind her Harry spoke. “I best be going too, you look after yourself,” Harry said sternly looking at Hermione before turning to Draco. “Remember, if anything happens to her, I killed the most powerful Dark Wizard at the age of seventeen, I’m now trained to the highest standard Malfoy. Don’t you forget it.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Potter,” Draco replied, slightly abased as Harry kissed Hermione on the cheek before leaving the room.

Silence engulfed Hermione and Draco as they stood alone in the room, the heat from their kiss still sizzling through their bodies. “France?” Draco questioned, ready to have Hermione all to himself with no interruptions. 

“Yes,” Hermione answered quietly, squeezing his hand. “France.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the reveal in this chapter, I can now post the separate one shot of the night Draco & Hermione got together! 
> 
> As I'm trying to keep posting new chapters of Sanctum every other week until it's fully written so I have a buffer, I will do my best to tidy up the prequel and get it posted next Saturday!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks as always to TectonicTigress & TriDogMom for their supreme Alpha skills. For those of you interested, as promised, a separate one shot titled Berkano has been posted to show the night Hermione & Draco got together!

Lounging next to the pool under the blazing sunshine Hermione took a moment to appreciate where she was. They had arrived at Blaise’s château a few days ago and Hermione was still struggling to get used to the breathtaking views. From her spot next to the pool all Hermione could see was the lush rolling green hills and clear blue skies. From the balcony of her room, Hermione could see the quaint village nestled a few miles south. 

Closing her eyes Hermione relished the feel of the sun on her skin. It had been so long since she had felt the warming rays caress her. Realising, somewhat bitterly, that the last time she had felt this serene was on her honeymoon with Ron. They had vacationed for two weeks in Greece soaking up all the sights and sounds, truly relaxing for the first time since their fifth year at Hogwarts, it had been blissful. Until that was, they came home, upon their return Ron had begun the most intense part of his Auror training, leaving him tired and irritable. Hermione had always hoped once his training was over her loving husband would return. It turned out that hope had been in vain. 

Thinking of Ron reminded Hermione of their pending divorce, she knew Draco had brought the divorce papers with them. Having spied them in his bag when they first arrived, part of her felt it was too sudden and rushed. Yet the other part of her wanted to just sign the damn things and have it done with. She had been trying to dismiss what Ron had done to her, but it was inexcusable. As a fully trained Auror, he  _ knew _ there would be consequences to breaking the bonds. Even if she hadn’t had her accident and nearly lost all of her magic, he would have been arrested for breaking them unlawfully. His brash actions had almost killed her  _ and _ her babies. Hermione knew the man she once loved was no longer there, but letting him go when he’d played such a major part in her life was a daunting task.

Rubbing a consoling hand over her bare skin where the twins nestled between her hips, which Hermione often found herself doing now, her thoughts turned to Draco. Draco had been superb these last few days, hell, Draco had been damn near perfect for the last year. Since leaving the hospital after their kiss Draco had been attentive to Hermione’s every need and always within sight.

Not that she needed or wanted to be waited on hand and foot, but the extra attention felt nice. “Your daddy is a good man,” Hermione whispered to her stomach, keeping her voice light so Draco wouldn’t hear. “He’s done so much for us already, just because he wants to. He’s always there for us, little flickers.”

It felt strange to be referring to Draco as  _ daddy _ , they weren’t a couple and definitely hadn’t been trying to conceive the night they slept together but, here they were, expecting twins. Whilst Hermione still wasn’t thrilled her contraceptive potion had failed— a curiosity to consider another day— she wasn’t as terrified as she expected to be. She wasn’t lying when she said Draco was always there for her,  _ them _ . 

For instance, right now, Draco could be found in the pool. His blonde head gliding through the water as he completed his customary hundred lengths, smiling at Hermione everytime he swam past. Since they had left the hospital, Draco hadn’t stopped smiling. Initially, Hermione had wondered if he’d overdone a cheering charm but it seemed he was just  _ that _ happy with their situation. As Draco finished his workout, Hermione watched as he gracefully climbed out of the pool, grateful for her sunglasses concealing her stare. 

It was just so distracting watching his muscles ripple as he braced himself against the wall, lifting the rest of his toned body from the water with ease. Biting her lower lip Hermione felt a blush creep across her cheeks, she wasn’t sure if it was the hormones or their increased proximity but she had not been able to keep her eyes off him.

Every time Draco moved, Hermione found herself watching where he went, fascinated by his natural grace and poise. Once or twice Hermione had even found herself openly gawping at him as he strolled around the place topless before she hastily caught herself and buried her nose in the nearest book. Now was no exception, Hermione watched as Draco walked towards her, his sun-kissed skin glistening with water droplets as they trailed down his delicious defined muscles. 

Looking at Draco as he stood in front of her, Hermione felt her heart begin to pound as heat crept into her cheeks. Damn him and his shorts! Hanging off his hips in  _ that way _ . She wanted to trail her tongue against his solid muscles and taste the water on her tongue, she had to fight the urge to follow the line of his muscles all the way down to look  _ there. _ Feeling a little light headed, Hermione wrenched her gaze to Draco’s face, confused to see he was smirking at her.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Draco asked as Hermione squirmed on her sun lounger, trying and failing to act nonchalant.

“Umm, no,” Hermione replied a little breathlessly, she really had to get a grip on herself. “Sorry— what’s up?” Ugh, why had she said  _ what’s up? _ Her flustered state had her babbling nonsense, she felt no better than a hormone driven teenager, drooling over some picture in a magazine. 

“I wanted to know if you would like to go to dinner with me?” Draco asked smirking as he watched Hermione’s eyes rove his body again, she was so obvious. “Tonight? Blaise said there’s a great little restaurant in the village and it’s all Muggle.”

Having heard a bit more of the question this time Hermione answered Draco, trying to keep her voice steady. “That sounds lovely, what time?”

“Shall we say seven?” Draco inquired as he picked up the towel next to Hermione, drying his face off before he looked back at her. 

“Yea,” Hermione said a little dreamily, following Draco’s hands as he moved the towel to dry the rest of his body. “Sounds great.”

Watching as Hermione’s eyes trailed over his body, again, Draco laughed. Placing the towel around his neck casually he leaned down to whisper in Hermione’s ear, “you know I can see your eyes through those glasses right?” Noticing Hermione freeze next to him Draco chuckled. “It’s ok you know, I watch you too.” 

Leaving those words hanging between them, Draco kissed Hermione’s cheek before sauntering off inside to shower. He was thoroughly enjoying having Hermione around and he had big plans for their  _ date _ tonight. 

Hours later, a still frustrated Hermione stood in front of the mirror trying to comb out the knots in her hair. Releasing a low growl Hermione yanked her hair into three separate parts and braided it, throwing it over her shoulder before turning to the wardrobe. 

Staring at the clothes Draco had neatly arranged for her, Hermione pondered what to wear. Was tonight a date? Or was it just a dinner between two friends? But were they just friends now? Trying not to overthink the situation, Hermione settled on her light blue summer dress, due to the floaty material it was one of the few things which didn’t need a charm to fit.

Slipping it over her head Hermione smoothed her dress down over her stomach, pausing as it fluttered. Looking at her own confused face in the mirror Hermione rested her hand on the swell of her stomach, was it just nerves about tonight or was it something more? Turning to observe herself in the mirror, Hermione flattened the material of the dress against her bump. Yup, she definitely looked pregnant. There was a distinct curve to her stomach now, poking out further than her breasts, rubbing it gently as she looked at herself in the mirror she realised there would be no hiding it when she went back to work. Letting go of the fabric Hermione watched as it settled against her skin, jumping slightly at Draco’s voice. 

“Don’t you look wonderful,” Draco marveled as he walked into their room, stopping to fully appreciate Hermione’s outfit. “Are you ready?” he asked, offering his arm for Hermione to take like a true gentleman. 

Glancing at herself in the mirror one last time Hermione gently stroked her fingers across her stomach before grabbing her cardigan from the chair. Looping her arm casually through Draco’s, Hermione replied, “yes, I am starving!” 

Hermione stopped a few moments later as Draco pulled out the key to Blaise’s sports car. “You’re driving us?” Hermione questioned in disbelief, even she couldn’t drive and she’d been raised as a Muggle!

Draco laughed, the corners of his eyes creasing as he took in her bewildered expression. “If you think I’m going to pass up the opportunity to drive Blaise’s brand new Lamborghini Huracan, you’ve got another thing coming. Besides, Blaise said I could and it’s too far to walk.”

“You can drive?” Hermione inquired, she had always intended on taking her test, but with magic, it hardly seemed relevant. Pondering when Draco would have had the time to pass a driving test, she missed Draco’s longing gaze at the vehicle. 

Draco scoffed, turning his attention back to her as she stood at the entrance to the garage. “Not legally but I know enough. Blaise and I go driving all the time.”

Eyeing the car with mistrust, Hermione hesitated, “can’t we just apparate?”

“No,” Draco replied, walking back over to her to pull lightly on Hermione’s now crossed arms. “Minimal magic around you and it’s an entirely Muggle village with no apparition points.” Sensing her reluctance Draco proceeded to give her his best puppy dog eyes. “Please? Please come to dinner with me?”

Mellowing slightly Hermione unfolded her arms, allowing Draco to take her hands. “Is it safe?”

“I promise you it’s safe,” Draco assured Hermione, pulling her slowly towards the car, making sure to maintain eye contact. “Do you really think I would put you and our unborn children in danger? It’s safer than any Muggle car out there. Blaise has so many enchantments on it.”

“Fine,” Hermione conceded as Draco’s face broke into a smile. He promptly led her to the passenger side of the car and held the door open as she climbed in awkwardly, “you’re lucky I’m not more pregnant.”

Laughing Draco moved quickly round to his side of the car and slid effortlessly into his seat whilst Hermione eyed him enviously. Putting the key in the ignition Draco moaned with pleasure as the engine roared to life. “Doesn’t she sound beautiful?” he cooed, running his hands over the steering wheel.

“Whatever you say,” Hermione replied, smirking as Draco grinned at her. Looking away from her, Draco very carefully maneuvered the car from its space before driving down Blaise’s long driveway.

“Just listen to her though,” Draco enthused as he drove the long winding road to the village accelerating out of each turn to make the engine thrum. “She purrs! It’s not my favourite sound though.”

“Oh really?” Hermione queried, arching an eyebrow as Draco lightly squeezed her leg. “What is your favourite sound?”

“You saying my name,” Draco answered, quick as a flash, causing Hermione to blush. “Well, more accurately, you moaning it beneath me.”

Hermione inhaled sharply as Draco placed his hand back on the wheel, her skin tingling from his touch. “Gods, Draco… you… I… I don’t know what to say.” Hermione stammered as heat from his touch scorched through her veins, if he kept this up she was sure to spontaneously combust.

“Sorry,” Draco apologized quickly, biting his lip to hide his smile. “But you did ask. Anyway, we’re here.”

Hermione looked up, suddenly mesmerised by the soft golden light pouring from the restaurant on top of the terrace. “It’s stunning Draco,” Hermione whispered as Draco parked the car and stepped out, rushing to her side to open the door.

“Only the best for my lady,” Draco replied smoothly, helping Hermione maintain her dignity as she climbed out of the low car.

Hand in hand, Draco led Hermione into the restaurant, speaking to the waiter in fluent French as they entered. Hermione felt her jaw drop as the waiter led them to a table outside looking out over the view. 

“It is terribly un-ladylike to sit with your mouth open Granger,” Draco teased as he held out Hermione’s chair for her.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione giggled as Draco took his own seat, leaning in close to hold Hermione’s hand. “I didn’t know you could speak French, it’s rather… interesting.”

“I was taught from a young age,” Draco replied running his thumb over Hermione’s knuckles. “My ancestors are from France, it was important I learned the language.”

“I never knew,” Hermione smiled looking into Draco’s bright eyes. “I feel I know so much about you but maybe I don’t.”

“You know the important things,” Draco confirmed with a kiss to Hermione’s hand.

“Do I?” Hermione questioned, her body automatically leaning in to Draco across the small table.

“Yes,” Draco answered honestly, his heart quickening in response to Hermione’s proximity. “You know the worst parts of me and you know the best.” Draco gulped preparing himself for his next words, “Hopefully you know how much I… how much I… adore you, Hermione.”

Heart fluttering Hermione stopped breathing, Draco’s words hanging in the air between them, “I… I,” Hermione stuttered as she tried to find the right words.

“I know it’s complicated,” Draco began as Hermione nibbled her lip. “Especially with you still being married and the babies but I just— I am so excited. I want to be there every step of the way, I want more than that, I want you, Hermione. Mind, body and soul.”

Feeling her stomach swoop, Hermione gripped Draco’s hand in surprise, “I swear something just moved inside me.” Hermione whispered making Draco’s eyes light up.

“Seriously?” he questioned, quickly moving to squat beside her. “Can I?” 

“I don’t know if you’ll feel it,” Hermione answered hesitantly, pulling Draco’s hands towards her bump and placing them down gently where she felt the swooping sensation. 

Minutes passed in silence and nothing happened. “Sorry Draco,” Hermione murmured quietly as disappointment flooded his face, reaching out Hermione ran her thumb across his cheekbone looking into Draco’s stormy grey eyes. “I want you too,” she said softly resting her forehead against his. “I’m just not sure how we do this.”

Smiling to himself Draco allowed Hermione’s words to wash over him, her scent wrapping around him, “We’ll go slow,” Draco promised, running one hand up to Hermione’s neck as the other gently caressed the small bump. “I want this,” he added pressing his lips lightly to hers. “I want this to work.”

Staring into his eyes, Hermione felt the air around them ripple, her lips tingling from his kiss as her skin warmed again beneath his touch. Struggling not to get lost in his eyes, Hermione realised how close they were. Each breath bringing them closer and closer together as everything around them faded away.

Their bubble was broken when the waiter arrived at the table, hastily retaking his seat Draco ordered quickly before turning back to Hermione. “There is one small confession I would like to make, Hermione.”

“Yes?” Hermione questioned, retaking Draco’s hand across the table. 

Squirming in his seat Draco worked up his courage, this secret, no one but his Mother and Blaise knew. He felt it was only fair Hermione knew too, but revealing himself in this way, even to her, worried him. Would she be willing to stay with him after he confessed?

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, sensing his discomfort. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No,” Draco replied, his resolve making his words firm. “I do have to tell you. I just… I’m the one who burned Malfoy Manor to the ground. The day they released me from Azkaban. I had to. I had to go back there and I didn’t want to.”

Withdrawing his hand from hers, Draco looked up at Hermione as she sat there stunned, his eyes pleading with her to understand. “I couldn’t face living there after everything that had happened, it was too much. And I had to live there, part of my parole was house arrest. I just couldn’t do it. So I burnt it to the ground, watched as the legacy died. I was a wreck when Blaise found me, how he knew is beyond me. But he turned up and took me away. Away from the carnage and misery and checked me into therapy.”

Closing his eyes as the sight of the flames danced in his mind's eye, Draco missed Hermione rising from her seat and walking round to his side of the table. The cold empty feeling he had in his chest was replaced by her warmth as she sat on his lap. Holding her close, Draco allowed the memory to play out in its entirety, it had been the one thing he had dreaded in Azkaban, returning to that house, alone. 

_ The day of his parole hearing had arrived quickly, Draco had been both excited and terrified to leave. His six month stint in Azkaban had been one of the toughest experiences he had endured, the constant anxiety combined with the brutality of the guards had worn down any resilience he once had. He knew he would have to face the day alone as his mother was ill, unable to leave their manor in France. And his father, well, his father was set to spend the rest of his days serving as an Azkaban inmate.  _

_ Walking into the room, filled with the Wizengamot, Draco had trembled. Not long after his entrance, they had granted his parole and a Ministry officer had Apparated him back to the Manor, setting up the wards to keep him confined, before swiftly departing and leaving him alone. Walking through the dusty Manor Draco was assaulted by horrific flashbacks, in a fit of desperation he had lashed out, setting the curtains in the drawing room alight.  _

_ Transfixed by the flames the idea of burning the Manor down overcame him, the word burn repeating with every beat of his heart. A strange sense of calm settled within him as he went room to room casting the Fiendfyre, when the entire ground floor was engulfed in flames, Draco walked out the front door, feeling the wards around the house drop as the cursed fire spread, and continued walking down the long driveway, turning at the end to watch the flames take hold of each floor.  _

_ Draco wasn’t sure how much time passed before Blaise appeared at his side. All that was left of the Manor was a twisted heap of charred brick, the smoke rising steadily into the sky. They didn’t talk, they didn’t need to. Blaise was one of the few people who had kept in contact with him, their childhood friendship morphing into something different as Draco had opened up to Blaise. Draco was aware of Blaise’s presence and a firm grip on his shoulder before he was Apparated away, landing in a warm neutral room. _

_ Little did Draco know at the time that this would be the beginning of everything. _

“After Blaise checked me in and got me settled,” Draco began, his voice rough as he struggled to maintain his composure, “he went to the Minister. I don’t know how he did it but he convinced them to change the terms of my parole, so I could complete it in the hospital, recovering, instead of suffering at the Manor or going back to Azkaban.”

Hermione was suddenly overcome with a wave of gratitude for Blaise and a fierce protectiveness of Draco, so many questions bombarded her mind but she didn’t move until Draco had regained control of his breathing, the tight grip he had on her dress loosening as he relaxed. Keeping her hand at the back of his neck, Hermione played with the short hairs there, her nails lightly scratching his skin. She knew something had happened after his release to prompt his year in therapy but she had never questioned what. She had been curious, of course, but it wasn’t the type of question one just asked. 

Understanding where his change had come from helped Hermione appreciate where he was now. The thought of Draco destroying the Manor was mind boggling, the sheer power it would have taken was incomprehensible. 

But did it change how she felt about him? About their situation? Not a damn bit. As Hermione thought that Draco finally looked up at her, his eyes wary. The need to reassure him was overwhelming, Hermione felt tears pool in her eyes as she bought her lips to his ear, whispering. “The man you are today, Draco Malfoy, will make our children proud.”

Feeling her breath ghost across his neck Draco held Hermione closer, unable to put into words exactly what it meant to him to hear her say those words. People were so rarely proud of him but here she was, accepting him, reassuring him once again. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N — Thanks as always to TectonicTigress & TriDogMom for their glorious Alpha skills! I’m excited to share this chapter with you, it’s a bit fluffy! For those that are curious, I got the idea for Blaise’s hotel from a real place in France, Hotel du Cap-Eden-Roc after I saw it in the movie ‘Killers’ — it screams just the right amount of luxury for those Slytherin boys, no?

After another week in the sun, Hermione felt ready to tackle the mountain of legal jargon that faced her to formally end her marriage. Her determination, in part, was down to Draco. Since their date, their dynamic had shifted. Whilst sharing a bed was nothing new for them, it was different from before. They fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, and when Hermione awoke in the night, as she was prone to do due to sickness or heartburn, Draco would always be stretching out trying to find her. It was the small changes that made her realise a bigger change was coming— they were going to be parents, and she couldn’t keep putting off finalising her divorce. 

It was as the sunlight poured through the window in Blaise’s study that Hermione took off her engagement and wedding rings, rubbing the indentations on her fingers gently. Setting them down on the solid oak desk in front of her, she looked at the diamond as it glittered in the sunlight. Signing the paperwork meant so much more than just a divorce. It was her letting go of all the hurt Ron had caused her before their separation, letting go of all the emotions that came with thinking about him and Olivia, or him and Lavender for that matter. 

There had been so many opportunities for both of them to take a different path. Hermione could have worked a little less, Ron could have spent more time with her, but neither of them had been willing to make the sacrifice. Which, at the end of the day, must mean that they weren’t truly supposed to be together. If they had been, they would have moved mountains just to spend five extra minutes with one another. 

Thoughts like that allowed Hermione to forgive Ron for his actions where Olivia was concerned. They were both responsible for the breakdown in their marriage. Sure, the events that followed complicated matters somewhat, and she was confused about how Lavender fitted into the equation. And she certainly wasn’t going to forgive him for his brash actions with the wedding bonds which nearly killed her and her babies, but they were both responsible for the breakdown of their marriage. 

Looking around Blaise’s open and airy study, Hermione once again tried to process the fact that her husband had almost killed her. She ran a hand over her bump to soothe the flutters inside her as she thought of where Ron was now. Harry had written at the start of their break to inform them that Ron had been moved to Azkaban whilst the trial was prepared. She didn’t like the thought of Ron stuck in that prison, even without the Dementors, but where else would he be?

However, with the date of the trial set, a week after their return, Hermione knew he’d only be there for a short time. Thinking of how all the sordid details would soon be public knowledge made Hermione nauseous. Leaning her head back against the expensive leather chair, Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She knew she was going to be asked about Draco, about the paternity of the children, the events leading up to their conception, everything. Not that any of it mattered. Ron still maliciously broke the marriage bonds, fully aware that it was only supposed to be done by trained professionals in a secure, controlled environment.

Hermione cursed herself inwardly. The marriage bonds had been quite a point of contention in the build up to their wedding. Ron, having come from a traditional wizarding background, had not understood her hesitation. Everyone was bonded at their wedding ceremony! No big deal! He had told her time and time again. 

Yet to Hermione, it  _ was _ a big deal. The marriage bonds tied your magic to another’s, joining you so intricately it was difficult to tell where your magic ended and the other’s began. She hadn’t known, prior to Ron’s flippant comment, that marriage bonds were even a thing. Marriage bonds made up eighty percent of the legality of a magical marriage. Without the bonds in the wizarding world, you were barely married. No matter who she spoke to, they all had the same opinion:  _ It’s not worth worrying about… You’re going to spend the rest of your life together anyway… It’s simple. _

Just look at where it had gotten her. She had listened to all those false words of reassurance and ignored her gut feeling, agreeing to the marriage bonds that Ron had wanted. Feeling a stray tear roll down her cheek, Hermione shook herself. At least she and her babies were alive, safe with Draco looking out for them. 

Hermione knew Draco was downplaying his anxiety about the trial. For the last few years, he had successfully been able to avoid the spotlight, and this was about to throw everything out into the open. There was going to be no hiding from the public scrutiny— everyone would have an opinion, a stupid idea that they were entitled to know every little detail about their life. 

“You ok?” Draco asked as he walked into the room, glancing down at the papers that littered Blaise’s desk.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione answered blandly, rubbing a hand underneath her eyes.

“You’re sorry?” Draco queried, his eyebrow quirking up as Hermione met his gaze. “What’s happened?”

“For everything,” Hermione sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the desk and placing her head into her open hands. “This is all about to get very messy. Everybody is going to think they know our business. How are we supposed to prepare for being parents when everyone is going to be talking about what Ron did, what  _ we _ did?”

“I’m not,” Draco quipped, smiling as Hermione looked back at him slightly bewildered. “I’m not sorry for a damn thing. I’m  _ glad _ we slept together. If we hadn’t, you would be back with Ron, I would still be whining to Blaise about my crush on you and nothing would have changed. I don’t care what everyone else thinks, our friends know the truth. Or they will when we tell them.”

“How can you be so calm?” Hermione questioned, slumping back in her seat as Draco walked around the desk to rub Hermione’s shoulders. “My divorce and pregnancy are about to become public knowledge, you’re going to be outed as the father and no one is going to care about what happened before. We’re going to be the scandal and no one will bat an eye at Ron’s actions.”

“Hermione,” Draco spoke softly, his firm fingers skillfully easing the tension out of Hermione’s shoulders. “When you’re ready, you’ll sign the divorce papers. We’ll face Ron’s trial the same way we face the press— together. The public will get bored soon enough and then we’ll be free to raise our children away from prying eyes, if that’s what you want.”

“Mmm,” Hermione mumbled, her head lolling forward as Draco continued to work his magic. “I hope you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Draco replied happily, dropping a kiss to the top of Hermione’s head. “Besides, I’m a Malfoy. Even when I’m wrong, I’m right.”

Unable to resist Draco’s optimism, Hermione laughed. He really knew the right thing to say to cheer her up. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly against his hand as she took it to press a kiss against it. “I think I’m going to carry on with this.”

“I’ll be in the library,” Draco answered easily, giving her shoulder a squeeze as he walked away. “Shout me if you need me.”

Smiling at his retreating figure, Hermione straightened up in Blaise’s chair and picked up where she had left off.

Strolling down the corridor, Draco pondered just how he was going to make sure everything would work out for them. It wasn’t like old times where the Malfoy name and a bit of gold to the right person could have influenced a decision, this would go through the correct legal channels. He just hoped his name wouldn't have a negative impact on the Wizengamot and their decision when the time came. 

For now, Draco would do his best to ensure Hermione and the babies were happy and healthy. Everything after that point would have to wait. Picking up the glass he had left on the table, Draco sipped the cool water slowly, smiling as he recognized the owl flying toward him. He had written to his mother a week ago, suggesting he and Hermione visit on the journey home as he would be driving one of Blaise’s cars back. Writing his response out quickly, Draco picked up his book where he had left it earlier and continued his research into runes, not that Hermione knew, of course.

Hours later, Draco walked back into the study to find Hermione facing the balcony, her arms wrapped around her body as she gazed out over the rolling hills. The sun was setting behind her, framing her silhouette in gold as the light poured in through the grand double doors.

“Hermione?” Draco questioned, stopping at Blaise’s desk to admire her figure. From this angle he could see the graceful curve of her stomach, keeping their children safe from harm.

“Hi,” Hermione answered, a small smile on her face as she turned her gaze away from the retreating speck against the sunset. “It’s done, the divorce. I was just watching the owl fly away with the papers.”

Stunned, Draco just stared at her, noticing how she seemed to glow against the sunset. He hadn’t expected her to be done with the papers so quickly, he had anticipated long days of trawling through paperwork, making sure the divorce was watertight and Hermione got everything she deserved. Knowing that it was done, that Hermione was free, left Draco speechless.

Hermione watched as Draco’s face flickered with different emotions. Shock turning to confusion. Confusion turning to relief and that relief finally turning to happiness. Draco’s eyes shone as his mouth lifted into a heartwarming smile, Hermione felt her heart stutter as he stood there, looking at her. Before she could return his smile, Draco was moving, practically bouncing on his feet as he drew closer, only stopping when he was right in front of her. 

Unable to stop himself— not that he could think of any logical reason why he should anyway— Draco embraced Hermione, pulling her against him tightly. As laughter escaped his lips, he lifted her, spinning Hermione in a circle as her legs flew out behind her. Hearing her laugh with him as her hands grabbed his shirt, only made him go faster. Draco stopped when the world began to spin far too fast and he settled Hermione back on her feet, keeping hold of her waist as she regained her composure, the sound of their laughter echoing through the room and into the open corridor behind them. 

“Somebody’s happy I’m now divorced,” Hermione chided playfully, taking a deep breath and willing to room to stop spinning. If she was being honest with herself, until that moment she wasn’t sure how she felt, it had been surreal to watch the owl fly off into the distance, knowing she was no longer Hermione Granger-Weasley. But now, with Draco holding her tightly, she felt overwhelmingly happy. She was free.

“You have no idea,” Draco answered sincerely, his thumb rubbing small circles against her skin. He wasn’t about to ask her to marry him, he knew it was too soon for that, but, he wanted to do  _ something _ , to show her how much she meant to him. Draco knew he couldn’t get ahead of himself, just because he’d been waiting for his opportunity— for what felt like an eternity— it didn’t mean he could rush her, push her into something she was definitely not ready for. 

“So,  _ Mr Malfoy _ , what do we do now?” Hermione asked happily, her hands moving from where they rested on his firm chest to loop up, around his neck.

“Well,  _ Miss Granger _ ,” Draco’s heart pounding as he pulled her in closer, “we’ve been invited to see Blaise tomorrow at his new hotel. And then, then on our way home in a few days, I’d like to go and see my mother. Formally introduce the two of you, if that’s ok with you?”

Hermione nibbled her lip, pondering her answer when she looked into Draco’s eyes. They were burning with… Hermione struggled to place the emotion, they were burning so intensely she felt herself flush under his stare. “I’d like that,” Hermione answered simply, her hand moving to her stomach automatically as she felt the babies move. “I think the babies would like that too.”

Releasing the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, Draco placed his hand on top of Hermione’s, his skin tingling as he touched her. “I’d like to tell Blaise and my mother,” Draco began, somewhat hesitantly as Hermione ran her fingers through his hair, “that  _ we’re _ expecting twins.”

“Of  _ course _ Draco,” Hermione responded instantly, her hand moving from his neck to rest against his cheek as she moved closer to him. “I want you, us, to be able to tell the truth. Especially before it all comes out anyway. Our family and friends should hear it first hand.”

Smiling, Draco nuzzled his face into Hermione’s open hand, pressing his lips against her open palm. Everytime he felt as if he was expecting too much, asking for something Hermione wasn’t ready to give, she astounded him. Their minds seeming to work in unison, thinking over the same puzzles and coming to the same solutions, without the knowledge of the other. 

The following morning, Hermione stood with Draco in front of Blaise’s new hotel. He had driven them there in what Hermione liked to call, Blaise’s devil car, as the Hotel wasn’t connected to the Floo network yet. Hermione was somewhat grateful for that, if they had arrived inside she would have missed out on the spectacular structure that was the hotel.

After cruising down the winding driveway, they had been greeted by a valet, who stood behind his own podium next to the wide stairs leading up to the hotel lobby. Hermione had sat open mouthed in the car until Draco had appeared at her side, holding out his hand to help her. Looking up as Draco led her up the stairs she counted, one, two, three, no, four floors of rooms, the white stone of the building standing out in stark contrast to the blue skies around them. 

Upon entering the lobby Hermione found herself stopping again, so enraptured by the white marble covering every surface she failed to notice Blaise approaching them and Draco’s laugh at her look of awe. It was just so beautiful, everywhere she looked there was some small flourish of detail that captured her attention. Places like this just didn’t exist in her world. This was a whole other level of luxury.

“Draco!” Blaise shouted, jolting Hermione from her musings, before her eye caught another bit of detail. “Hermione! It is so great to see you, how have you been enjoying the château? I hope you’ve been relaxing.”

Realising Hermione hadn’t really taken in a word Blaise had said, Draco replied, laughter colouring his voice. “It’s been great, exactly what we needed, thank you for letting us use it. Sorry, she’s a little distracted at the moment, I think your hotel has impressed her.”

At Draco’s gentle nudge, Hermione looked up, her head turning to look at Draco then at Blaise. “Oh my, Blaise, I’m so sorry. It’s just, this place, it’s… breathtaking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Blaise replied, with a twinkle in his eye, “making Hermione Granger speechless is quite a compliment in my book.”

Hermione giggled, her hand squeezing Draco’s as she let go of it to tuck into his side. “There’s um, actually something Draco and I wanted to tell you.”

“Shall we go out to the terrace?” Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow at Draco as he kissed Hermione’s cheek and entwined their fingers together. “The hotel hasn’t fully opened yet so it’s pretty quiet.”

“Sounds great,” Draco answered, trying to keep his emotions concealed so he could actually tell Blaise their news before he figured it out. Together, they followed Blaise through the grand lobby and out onto the sun kissed terrace, a soft “Oooh,” leaving Hermione’s lips as she took in the view. 

Either side of them there were sprawling, lush, green gardens with trees lining the walkway. At the end of the walkway in the distance, they could see the sea, blue and sparkling as the brilliant July sunshine rained down upon it. 

“Spectacular,” Hermione murmured as Blaise stopped next to a table, laid out with tea and cake. Hermione smiled as Draco pulled out a chair for her, before taking his own seat beside her.

“So then,” Blaise questioned as he poured tea out for the three of them, “what, could you two possibly have to tell me?”

Hermione felt nerves dance in her stomach, this was the first time either of them would announce their happy news. Obviously, Harry knew but he had been in the room when the Healer had given them the confirmation, but this was totally different. Looking to Draco, Hermione gave him a nod of encouragement, Blaise was his friend, he deserved to tell him.

Draco cleared his throat, shifting in his seat before draping his arm around Hermione’s shoulder, looking Blaise dead in the eye, Draco spoke. “Hermione and I are expecting,” Draco started, watching as Blaise’s eyes widened in comprehension, but Draco wasn’t done yet, “twins.” He finished, smirking as Blaise’s jaw dropped.

Blaise stared at Draco, waiting for him to shout ‘April Fools’ or something similar, as Draco only smiled at him, Blaise turned his attention to Hermione. Tucked into Draco’s arm, she sat contentedly tracing patterns on the fabric of her dress as it rested on her stomach, waiting for Blaise to break the silence.  _ They couldn’t be… Draco had to be joking. _ As the silence stretched on Blaise realised they weren’t joking, they really were going to have twins. “Champagne!” he shouted, waving his wand madly to summon it to them, complete with three glasses and an ice bucket. “I… I can’t believe it! Congratulations,” Blaise said sincerely, uncorking the bottle with a loud pop as the Champagne poured forth. “Seriously you guys, I’m so happy for you. A toast,” Blaise continued as he raised his glass toward Draco and Hermione, “to the Malfoy twins.”

Chuckling to himself, Draco sipped his Champagne, watching as Hermione politely pushed hers away before lifting her tea cup to her lips. It felt so good to finally share their news, although it had only been confirmed a couple of weeks ago, Draco had been bursting to tell someone,  _ anyone _ . The best thing about it was that it felt natural, right, and Draco couldn’t believe his luck. 

As the conversation slowly turned to business, Hermione felt her concentration waver, it wasn’t that she found their talk boring, it was more that she was struggling to keep up. Sitting out in the glorious sunshine— even with Draco’s cooling charm— was taking its toll, her eyes felt heavy and her muscles limp. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and take a nap, moving to rest her head against Draco’s shoulder, Hermione looked out at the view again, mesmerised by the natural beauty surrounding her.

Noticing the change in Hermione’s demeanour, Draco turned to look at her, placing the back of his hand against her forehead as she moved to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry darling, we’ve bored you haven’t we?” Draco asked, fishing in his pocket for his wand to renew the cooling charm.

“Not at all,” Hermione answered quietly, smiling as she felt her body temperature reduce. “I just got a bit sleepy. Please, carry on.”

Blaise clapped his hands together as inspiration struck, “I’ve got a spa, you know. You could get utterly pampered whilst we talk business, how does that sound?” He really wanted to keep talking with Draco, but not if Hermione was about to pass out on them.

“Thank you Blaise,” Hermione began as she tried to sit up straighter in her seat, “but it’s entirely unnecessary. I’m fine, it’s just a pregnancy thing.”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Blaise joked as Draco picked up Hermione’s hand, his gaze flitting between the two of them. “You’d be doing me a favour. Testing out the facilities before we fully open and I’d like to do this for you. Call it a baby gift.”

Hermione squirmed in her seat, the thought of a massage sounded great right now but she didn’t want to take any further advantage of Blaise’s generosity. She was already staying in his château, for free, and making use of his facilities when the hotel wasn’t even open seemed too much.

Reading the concern etched into Hermione’s face, Draco spoke, “Blaise wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want you to do it.” He looked quickly to Blaise for back up.

“You are far too used to hanging around Gryffindor's, Hermione,” Blaise continued, smiling warmly as Hermione studied his face. “If I didn’t want to offer it, I wouldn’t have done. I’ve got great people here who will take really good care of you. You deserve it and it’s the least I could do for the mother of my best friend’s children. Whatever you want, it’s on the house. Please.”

It was the look of absolute sincerity on Blaise’s face that had Hermione caving, she turned to look at Draco. “What would you do?” she asked as Blaise called for a member of his staff, “if I went to the spa?”

Draco shrugged, “ _ When _ you go to the spa, I’ll sit here, talk to Blaise, miss you. Nothing of much interest.”

“Hey!” Blaise interjected, his face eyes narrowed in Draco’s direction, “what I have to say is very interesting.”

“You know I was only joking,” Draco replied lightly, his eyes creasing with his smile. “Go enjoy yourself Hermione, you really do deserve it.”

“Fine,” Hermione huffed, even though she too had a smile on her face. “I can see I’m not going to win against you two.”

“Brilliant!” Blaise commended, turning to talk to the person in uniform to his left. “Alexandria, I would like you to take Ms Granger down to the spa. She is to have whatever she wants done, but please make Emmanuelle aware that she’s pregnant, so nothing heavy handed and not too much magic. When she is finished with her treatments, please notify us and we’ll have a late lunch at the Grill.”

“Of course, Mr Zabini,” Alexandria replied with a smile before turning to address Hermione. “Ms Granger, if you’d like to follow me this way? I’ll explain everything we have available.” 

“I’ll see you later then,” Hermione said, giving Draco’s shoulder a tight squeeze as she passed him, turning to Blaise Hermione continued, “thank you Blaise, for everything.” 

“Not a problem,” Blaise answered, pouring himself and Draco another glass of Champagne. “Go, enjoy yourself!”

“Bye,” Draco called as Hermione smiled at him over her shoulder.

“You love struck fool,” Blaise declared as soon as Hermione was out of earshot, a broad smile on his face as Draco whipped his head to the side.

“And? You’ve met her right?” Draco replied, his hand reaching up to muss up his hair. “She’s fantastic  _ and _ she’s having my children. What is there not to love?” Being honest with Blaise wasn’t a difficult thing anymore, of all his friends, Blaise was the one Draco trusted most. For the first time, in a long time, Draco had something, someone, brilliant in his life and they had something to look forward to. His soul felt as if it had been liberated from it’s shackles, ready to share everything with Hermione. Then his smile faltered.

“What’s wrong?” Blaise asked, leaning forward to place his glass back down. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“No, no… it’s,” Draco fumbled, trying to find the right words, “it’s nothing.”

“Ah,” Blaise replied smugly, he knew exactly how to push Draco to talk. “You’re back to lying to me again, brilliant.”

“Don’t do that,” Draco warned, his eyes narrowing in Blaise’s direction as Blaise waved a hand of indifference. “You know I’m not lying to you, I just… there are things I want that I know Hermione doesn’t. She might never want those things again.”

“Marriage?” Blaise guessed, hitting the quaffle straight through the goal.

“She’s just got divorced,” Draco started to explain, the words racing to the tip of his tongue in their eagerness to escape. “Literally, she sent the papers off yesterday. There’s just this part of me— the traditional part— that wants to get down on one knee and ask for her hand. And, I know it’s irrational, and too fast, but I just can’t shake it off.” 

Draco stood from his seat and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to compose himself. “She’s having my children, Blaise. After everything that happened, I never thought I’d get this opportunity, with anyone. I gave up on that particular dream. Then Hermione and I met again, became friends, all the stuff you know, and those dreams started to kind of come back.” 

Pausing, Draco rolled his shoulders, trying to work out the tension that had crept into them, “and now it’s happening. Really happening and I can’t even propose to the damn woman as the Weasel has put her off marriage for life. Which I understand, I really, truly do, but it’s no good for me.”

Blaise pondered Draco’s quandary for a moment, trying to think of some kind of middle ground as Draco watched him hopelessly. Then it hit him, Draco was trying to move too fast, for Hermione anyway, Blaise was pretty sure in Draco’s shoes, he’d be thinking the same thing. “Why don’t you just ask her to date you? Or be exclusive? However you want to put it, really. Have you guys even had this talk yet? Does she know you’re in love with her?”

Draco shifted, Blaise’s words replaying in his mind as he considered his friend. “Technically, I have told her I love her, but she was unconscious.” Blaise laughed at his friend’s admission, holding his hands up in surrender as Draco threw the napkin at him. “What? It was after her accident, I was terrified.”

“Still,” Blaise replied, leaning back in his chair to rest his ankle upon his knee, “you didn’t think it might be an idea to have that conversation when she woke up?”

“Of course I did,” Draco snapped, “it’s not like there’s been an opportune moment to bring it up.”

“Apart from the entire time you’ve been shacked up with her in my château? Alone?”

Glaring at Blaise’s smug face, Draco sat back down and took a long drink from his glass, nearly draining it. “I’ve thought about it every Merlin damned day, played out thousands of conversations in my head, and gone to find her a thousand times more. But, I guess it all comes down to the fact that, I’m scared.”

_ Finally _ , Blaise thought,  _ an honest admission _ . “She’s probably just as scared as you are Draco. It’s obvious watching you two that you’re smitten with each other. I can see she’s being careful, which to me says you mean too much to her to lose. You guys need to talk. The sooner the better really.”

“Were you always this smart at school?” Draco muttered irritably as Blaise nodded. As always, Blaise had cut to the heart of the matter and left him feeling like somewhat of a fool. “Will you help me then? Figure out how to do this?”

Blaise smiled gently, pouring them both another glass of Champagne. “Draco, I think it’s time you and I toured the estate. And I think I know exactly what you should do with Granger.” 

Hours later, Draco stood alone, gazing out over the calm blue waters of the Mediterranean. Off in the distance Draco could see the mountains and below him, he could hear the waves gently slapping against the rock. Blaise’s plan was ingenious, simple and exactly what he needed. He stood there, patiently waiting for Hermione when he heard her voice carry across the empty restaurant. 

Before he turned to look at her, he took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm his nerves. Taking one last look at the ocean, Draco twiddled the ring on his finger, turning to greet Hermione just as she tapped his shoulder.

“Wow,” Draco blurted out, his heart frozen as he stared at Hermione, well, he thinks it’s Hermione.

“You like it?” She asked hesitantly, her hand reaching up to play with the ends of her now short hair. It had been a spontaneous idea really, Blaise’s hairdresser suggesting shorter hair would be much more manageable when the children came along. Not to mention the fact that she would no longer need to fight her hair on a daily basis with her hairbrush. 

“I love it,” Draco breathed, taking the time to truly appreciate her new look. Her long hair had been cut into styled wavy layers, a fringe coming in to frame her eyes with the rest of her hair coming to rest just above her shoulders. “It suits you.”

“Thanks,” Hermione answered, her hands still playing with her new, shorter hair. “Where’s Blaise?” Hermione asked, turning to look around the rest of the empty restaurant for him. 

“Busy,” Draco said, taking Hermione’s hand and spinning her into him, her back now flush with his chest. He and Blaise had walked for hours, discussing Hermione, weighing out the pro’s and con’s of each plan before settling on the simplest option.

Hermione relaxed into Draco’s embrace. Emmanuelle had worked hard and Hermione felt wonderful, every muscle in her body was relaxed. Together she and Draco stood silently, taking in the view, his hands were cradling her baby bump and Hermione could honestly say, nothing had ever felt better. Draco seemed to be her perfect counterbalance, even now he was taking half of her weight to ease any strain in her lower back. They seemed to be so in tune with one another, it made Hermione wonder why she hadn’t realised it before.

“Hermione,” Draco whispered, his voice low as his chin rested on her shoulder. He could feel his heart beating erratically in his chest as he steeled his nerves. 

“Yes, Draco?” Hermione hummed as she turned her head to look at him, his hands fidgeting against her bump as he drew in a deep breath.

“Will you wear my Malfoy ring?” Draco blurted out, his nerves getting the best of him as his well rehearsed sentences jumbled together. “It’s not a proposal, I know you wouldn’t want that. But it’s important. You’re important and I need something,” Draco fumbled the ring off his finger and held it out as an offering, praying that Hermione would take it. “Something, to show the world that we’re in this together. That I love you, that the children are mine. Hell, that we are exclusive, whatever label you want or don’t want to put on it. I just need _ you _ , Hermione.”

Hermione stood there stunned as Draco stared at her, his eyes beseeching her to accept. Although his words were rushed, Hermione knew what he meant. They had been dancing around their relationship for so long, never quite taking the plunge for one reason or another, but now was the time. Hermione knew she couldn’t shy away from her feelings any longer. She had known for a while now that Draco was quite possibly in love with her, but hearing him say it, out loud as he asked her to wear his ring, made her heart stop. She didn’t think she was quite there, yet, but she knew she was falling for him. How could she not?

With a trembling voice, Hermione asked, “which finger does it go on, Draco?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Draco took her left hand in his, hovering his ring over her ring finger. He could still see the indentations of where her wedding band had sat and hesitated slightly. “Here,” he answered, his words coming out quietly, “but, it’s ok if you don’t want to wear it there. I know what people will think it means, when all it really is, is my promise, to you, to always love you be there for our children. I don’t want anyone else.”

Feeling her stomach flutter, Hermione nodded at Draco, his answering smile knocking the breath from her lungs as he carefully slid the ring down her finger. When he stopped, Hermione felt it magically alter to fit her, staring down at the silver ‘M’ as it stood against the onyx stone Hermione spoke softly. “Thank you, Draco,” Hermione giggled a little at Draco’s bemused face before she continued, struggling to find the right words. “You, are more than I deserve but everything that I want. I will wear this ring with pride and I promise you, Draco Malfoy, that no one, nothing, will come between us. My home is right here, in your arms. Nothing can change that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - So, Hermione last line: "My home is right here, in your arms." came to me when I was actually writing my own wedding vows (nearly two years ago!) listening to one of my all time favourite songs 'Right Here in my Arms' but my all time, favourite Finnish band, HIM.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Alpha love as always to TriDogMom! We’ve gone over this chapter so many times to make sure everything makes sense, I’m happy to be able to finally post it and hopefully it answers some questions! 
> 
> If anyone does have any questions — pop them in the comments and I’ll try to answer without giving anything away!

The rest of the week had passed slowly, much to their delight, neither Draco or Hermione were particularly looking forward to returning to reality. The final hurdle they had to face— before everything back home— was Narcissa Malfoy. 

It was the reason Draco was driving Blaise’s new Aston Martin Vanquish along the winding French roads. Blaise needed it back in the UK and Draco humbly offered to take it for him, as long as he could stop off and visit Narcissa en-route. The fact that Draco adored the car had nothing to do with it. 

As they sat together in an easy silence Hermione’s thoughts strayed to the small ways in which their relationship had progressed since the Malfoy ring first graced her finger. Draco was freer now with his affections, as was she, and nothing could stop his hands wandering hungrily over her body, learning her and feeling the changes the twins were bringing. His touch never ceased to electrify her skin, and on more than one occasion Hermione had to pull back from their kisses due to lightheadedness.

As if he was reading her thoughts, Draco moved one hand from the wheel to place it on Hermione’s leg, stroking the patch of exposed skin where her dress had ridden up in small circles. Peeking to his left, Draco met Hermione’s eye as she puckered her lips together and blew him a kiss, with a laugh Draco returned his gaze to the road ahead of them recognising that they were only a short distance away from his mother's home. 

“Are you nervous?” Draco asked Hermione as he turned off the main road onto a quieter one. They had discussed at length how his mother may react and whilst Hermione was prepared for the bombardment of questions and prying into their relationship, Draco was also very aware that this may be difficult for Hermione. Although the war had passed, and the emotional scars had been somewhat dealt with, there was the possibility that this meeting could bring old memories to the surface, specifically the memories of that night at the Manor. Draco hadn’t mentioned his concern to Hermione, not wanting to put those thoughts in her head, but he would be on the lookout for signs of her discomfort. 

“In a way, I suppose I am,” Hermione began, placing her hand atop Draco’s as he slowed the car down to navigate the turn onto the driveway. “Your mother cuts an intimidating figure, I never had to impress Molly, I’d grown up with her in my life, but I sense Narcissa will have certain expectations of me.”

“You’ll do brilliantly,” Draco assured her with a kiss to her knuckles, stopping the car in front of his mother’s home. It had been years since Draco had last visited and the tall imposing building didn’t seem any smaller. 

“I hope so,” Hermione answered quietly, her eyes peering through the windscreen at the grandeur as Draco walked around the car to open her door, holding her hand as she stepped onto the gravel driveway. 

Taking a step away from the car, Hermione looked up at the building. It screamed a stately simplicity. With the sun beating down onto the white facade, the blooming pink roses stood out in sharp contrast as they framed each of the six windows, the perfect picture of a countryside retreat. This was balanced by the lack of fuss on the first and second floors, their floor to ceiling windows commanding attention in a understated way. 

But, none of that compared to Narcissa Malfoy. With her now graying hair held back in an elegant updo and a light summer dress floating behind her as she swept through the double doors, all Hermione could do was wish for that level of grace and sophistication.

“Draco! My darling, I’ve missed you!” Narcissa greeted, hurrying round to their side of the car to embrace Draco before turning her attention to Hermione. “And, Hermione! You look positively radiant! Carrying the Malfoy heir certainly agrees with you.”

Hermione’s heart faltered as she replayed Narcissa’s words before quickly turning to Draco, who looked as confused as she felt.

“Mother,” Draco began slowly, curling an arm around Hermione’s waist so they stood together, “how do you know that the babies are mine?”

“Oh! Babies!” Narcissa shouted, her hands clapping in delight before they came to rest over her chest. “You’re having twins?” she asked, her gaze flitting quickly between the two of them. 

“Y-yes,” Hermione stammered, quickly looking to Draco whose jaw was now hanging open, “we are, Mrs Malfoy, but, how did you know they were Draco’s? We only found out ourselves before we left the hospital.”

“Someone must have taken your records, Hermione,” Draco spoke, finding his voice as his hand tensed around Hermione’s waist. “Some Merlin-be-damned,  _ bastard _ , broke into St Mungo’s and stole your records. It’ll be all over the papers. I swear to Salazar…  _ someone _ is going to pay—”

“Hush, my Dragon,” Narcissa began, stepping forward so she could place a reassuring hand against Draco’s cheek before turning and placing that same hand against Hermione’s bump. “No one told me, the records are safe, I figured it out.”

“How? Mother?” Draco sighed, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. They were mere minutes into their formal introduction and things were already deviating from Draco’s carefully considered plan.

“Come inside,” Narcissa suggested, turning away from the couple so she could lead them back into the library room, “I’ll show you.” Little did they know, Narcissa had been researching since visiting the pair in the hospital after Hermione’s accident, something about Draco’s description of the cave and the runes found on the floor had been niggling at the back of her mind, a certain familiarity driving Narcissa to search through all her old tomes for the answer. 

As Narcissa walked ahead, Draco paused and turned to Hermione, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know she knew and I don’t—”

“Draco,” Hermione spoke softly, her hand reaching up to smooth the crease lines from his brow, “don’t worry yourself, it’s fine. Now, let’s go see what your mother knows.”

“Okay,” Draco acquiesced, kissing Hermione’s cheek before leading her through his mother's bright and open home to the library, where Narcissa sat patiently waiting for them with a cup of tea in hand. 

Narcissa sipped her tea delicately as she watched Draco fuss over Hermione, her heart bursting with happiness. The pair of them together were adorable and they didn’t even seem to realise it. Once Draco had made sure Hermione was seated comfortably, he poured her a cup of tea and then one for himself, before settling next to her on the love seat, his arm slung casually across her shoulders. Internally, Narcissa beamed, the only thing she wanted from her life now, was for her son to be happy and it seemed that with Miss Granger, he was getting everything she’d ever wanted for him. 

Before she could get too lost in her daydream, Narcissa inched herself forward, her free hand coming to rest over a gilded gold and green book, its intricate design sparkling under the sunlight. 

“This,” Narcissa spoke softly, her fingertips tracing the delicate pattern as she looked over at Hermione, “is how I knew that  _ my _ Draco had sired your child— excuse me, children.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked, her voice quiet as her heart continued to beat to an irregular staccato. The anticipation of learning how Narcissa figured out the babies were Draco’s had Hermione leaning forward in her chair, patiently waiting. Hermione had found, throughout her school years and working for the Department of Mysteries, that whenever she was on the cusp of a breakthrough, time seemed to slow and everything got quiet, as if, any sudden noise would scare off the new piece of knowledge as it teetered in front of her. 

“Is that the book you used to read to me as a child?” Draco asked, his voice jolting Hermione slightly.

“It is indeed, my Dragon,” Narcissa answered, smiling at her son before she turned to Hermione, “this is a book on ancient Norse gods and goddesses. It tells their stories, myths, legends, whichever you wish to use, are you familiar with the goddess Frigg?”

Draco nodded, not yet understanding how this explained his mother's knowledge as Hermione recited, “Frigg was married to Odin and therefore the Queen of Asgard, she was the goddesses of love, motherhood, family, marriage and prophecy.” 

“Exactly,” Narcissa agreed, smiling indulgently as she continued, “and do you know who her handmaidens were?”

“I don’t recall their names,” Hermione admitted, as Draco rubbed her shoulder, he knew how she hated not knowing everything.

“No matter,” Narcissa replied quickly, “we’re only concerned with Frigg’s handmaid, Lofn. It is said that Lofn was given permission by either the All-Father or Frigg to arrange unions between men and women, even if earlier offers had been received and the unions banned. They say Lofn is the Goddess of Forbidden Love.”

At his mother's statement, Draco gulped, was she trying to tell them that somehow, he and Hermione had invoked the will of an ancient Goddess? Had he done something to bring about the end of Hermione’s marriage? Had his endless pining for Hermione drawn Lofn’s attention and she had somehow brought them together?

“The Goddess of Forbidden Love?” Hermione muttered, her hand stilling as it rested against the swell of her stomach. “I’m not sure I follow.”

“Well,” Narcissa continued, pulling forward a different book, this one looking much older and weathered. “You see, this book details all the sacred sites of the Gods and Goddesses from the Norse stories and when Draco told me of your living arrangements and how the two of you,  _ ahem _ , came together? Shall we say? I was intrigued, Draco told me of the magic he felt during your  _ couplin _ g, and it screamed to me that there was something more there, so I set myself to researching.”

Hermione sat back in her seat, her mind racing with the possibilities, was it possible they had stumbled upon a long lost sacred site? Had she inadvertently built her home, her sanctuary, inside a cave where ancient people went to have their unions blessed? It seemed too far fetched, too unbelievable but yet, the more Hermione thought about it, the more the knowledge felt right. There were so many things in the world that existed without anyone knowing about them, hell, up until the age of eleven she herself hadn’t believed in real magic. Yet, here she was, a fully fledged witch. 

“What are you saying, Mother?” Draco asked, feeling himself start to panic. Everything he had with Hermione seemed so natural, so perfect, he didn’t want their relationship to be the result of ancient magic. That night they had chosen each other, Hermione had chosen  _ him _ , it was the first time in his life someone had chosen him and Draco wasn’t ready for that to be taken away. 

“I believe that Hermione has been living in the cave where ancient peoples would go and ask for Lofn’s blessing,” Narcissa began, opening the old book as she spoke and pointing to a spot on an ancient map. “If you look here, there is a copse of trees and pathway leading to–”

“My cave,” Hermione breathed, her heart pounding as she looked over at the map. Just above where Naricssa was pointing was the stone circle known as Stonehenge, with the Avebury henge and earthworks further up again. This is what Hermione had been looking for, before she had even moved into her cave, she had hypothesized that it was important, it was too much of a coincidence that the magic the Ministry detected within the cave wasn’t linked to the ancient sites which surrounded it. 

“Exactly,” Narcissa said, beaming as Hermione moved forward again to look at the map in further detail, “legend has it when the first peoples settled near Stonehenge a young couple were refused a blessing by Frigg. Disappointed, yet determined, the couple sought to invoke the will of Lofn.”

Pausing, Narcissa flipped open her book to the passage she knew so well and handed it to Draco who took it with a nod of thanks. “Together, they discovered a cave with a natural waterfall. In an attempt to summon Lofn they carved runes into the pool floor and returned every night waiting for Lofn to appear. Then, on the eve of the summer solstice Lofn appeared before them and praised them for their dedication to her and one another.”

Picking up her tea, Narcissa refreshed herself before continuing, “as a reward for their dedication, Lofn bestowed upon them her blessing and united them as one. They were marked with a viking knot in a band around their finger and Lofn advised them to drink the water before consummating their union on the shore.”

Looking down at his empty finger Draco pondered his mother's story, “how did you get from what I told you in the hospital to Lofn?”

“I may have spoken to Blaise and Daphne,” Narcissa confessed, having the good grace to blush as she acknowledged her prying into Draco’s personal life.

“Mother,” Draco sighed, allowing his head to fall back against the chair as he dragged a hand across his face.

“If I may,” Hermione said, leaning into Draco to look at the text, “Draco and I didn’t ask for, or receive, a blessing. How are you so sure this is my cave?”

“Draco mentioned something about runes,” Narcissa replied, summoning another book from the bookcase, “and between Blaise and Daphne, I figured out—”

“Can we focus on the runes?” Draco interrupted, eager for his mother not to divulge anything Blaise or Daphne had told her. 

“Certainly,” Narcissa agreed, making Hermione wonder just what Draco was hiding, “Hermione, do you remember the runes you found carved into the pool floor?”

“It’s impossible to forget them,” Hermione answered with a side glance at Draco, “I’ve been studying them for weeks and I’ve only translated one.”

“Draco,” Narcissa instructed as Draco’s eyes lifted to meet hers, “please turn to the next page.”

Following his mothers orders and turning the page Draco couldn’t help the expletive as it crossed his tongue “fuck.” There, laid out on the page before him were the five runes Hermione had found on the pool floor all that time ago.

Unable to curb her curiosity, Hermione leaned into Draco and scanned the page for herself, her mind racing as she studied each rune and it’s meaning. “Berkano for birth, fertility, growth and new beginnings,” Hermione mumbled under her breath, “Ingwaz for male fertility, gestation and internal growth and then Fehu for fertility, again, as well as creation, foresight, energy, luck, wealth  _ and _ abundance.” 

“I still don’t understand how these runes told you I was the father,” Draco queried, looking to his mother for explanation. 

“Well,” Narcissa began, returning her teacup to it’s saucer and sitting primly back, “it is said that the water is enriched by the runes. Which is why those blessed drank from the waters before sealing their union,” at the blank stares she was receiving from Draco and Hermione, Narcissa pressed on. “I believe even though you weren’t blessed, the water still had an affect on you both.”

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, turning to him as memories flew through her brain, “we’ve swam in that pool so many times! What if that knocked out my contraceptive potion?”

“I suppose it’s a possibility,” Draco said, looking between Hermione and his mother.

“I think it’s more than a possibility, Draco,” Narcissa responded, “you forbid yourself from acting on your feelings for Hermione and then spent an extraordinary amount of time with her in Lofn’s cave.”

“Mrs Malfoy?” Hermione questioned quietly, her mind reeling as she tried to absorb all this new information.

“Please dear, it’s Narcissa.”

Flashing a smile in Narcissa’s direction, Hermione continued, “do you think the magical influence would extend beyond the cave?” 

Knowing exactly where Hermione’s mind had gone, Draco placed the book down upon the table and pulled her closer. He knew initially Hermione had struggled to accept the chain of events that led to her pregnancy, but if the magic had knocked her contraceptive out, in another life, she could have easily been carrying Ron’s child.

“I couldn’t say for sure,” Narcissa began, sensing the shift in atmosphere, “however, with your extended exposure I would assume that yes, the magical influence would be prominent even away from your home.”

Hermione felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. She could have just as easily fallen pregnant with Ron, it seemed it was all a matter of timing. She had slept with Draco first, therefore, she was having Draco’s children. Unsure of how to really process that, Hermione concentrated on the feel of Draco’s arm around her, grounding her to the here and now. 

Draco looked up at his mother, silently asking for a moment alone, smiling in thanks as she rose from her chair and vanished off down the hall. Using his free hand, Draco turned Hermione’s face to his, searching her eyes for a hint of how she felt. 

“It’s all my fault,” Hermione whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from Draco’s. “I should have done more research, understood what the cave was doing to me, how could I have not known?”

“How could you have known?” Draco countered, “no one knew why your cave was emitting a magical signature, it was your  _ job _ to find out. We both placed our trust in your contraceptive potion working.”

“I was just so eager to get away from home,” Hermione continued, seemingly ignoring Draco’s words. “I couldn’t wait, I needed the space…”

“Hermione,” Draco spoke sternly, “stop this. This may not be what either of us planned but I’m happy, I thought we were happy?”

“I am, D-Draco” Hermione stumbled, “it’s just, everytime I think I’ve come to terms with what happened something else comes up.”

“None of this is fact,” Draco reminded Hermione quietly, his own mind racing, “sure it seems to fit but you need to remember this is an old legend.” Draco wanted it to only be an old legend. He  _ chose _ Hermione that night in the cave and Draco liked to think that Hermione chose him too. He liked the idea that their timing had been perfect enough for Hermione to fall pregnant, it obviously wasn’t the ideal, but he wanted their relationship to be natural.

It felt wrong to even be considering the possibility that some other influence had caused the conception of what would surely become his pride and joy. Despite his belief in the old stories, Draco solemnly wished for this one not to be true. 

Feeling mollified by Draco’s words, Hermione felt her heart rate slow and her mind become clearer. “I need to do some more research.”

Laughing, Draco leaned in and pecked Hermione swiftly on the lips, “when do you not need to do more research?”

Batting at his arm, Hermione missed Narcissa’s return to the room, carrying a tray of drinks and sandwiches.

Draco quickly rose to his feet and relieved his mother of the tray with the click of his fingers. “Where would you like this?” he asked, looking around the room for a table large enough that wasn’t covered by books.

“How about out on the terrace?” Narcissa suggested, breezing past Draco to open the patio doors, “it’s a beautiful day and we really should make the most of it.”

“Hermione?” Draco questioned, standing between the two women.

“That sounds wonderful,” Hermione agreed with a smile, following Draco out onto the sun drenched terrace and seating herself opposite Narcissa again.

“Superb,” Narcissa said, as she watched Draco place the tray down with ease, “now, help yourselves to anything you want and there’s more in the kitchen if needed.”

Feeling her stomach rumble at the sight of the food in front of her, Hermione leaned forward to pick up a slice of the soft French bread, chewing on it happily as she helped herself to a mountain of fruit with her free hand. Smirking at Draco as he smeared some soft cheese onto his own bread, groaning as the full flavour hit his taste buds.

“My, my” Narcissa chided with a laugh, watching the two youngsters gorge themselves silly, “have you two not eaten?”

Hermione giggled, covering her mouth with her hand as Draco spoke for her, “well, Hermione is eating for three now and I just  _ adore _ these cheeses.”

“He really does,” Hermione agreed, her head bobbing furiously as Draco smirked at her, “he’s charmed the boot of Blaise’s car to stay cool so he can take loads home, it’s going to stink! I don’t know where he’s going to keep it when we get back.”

“Speaking of home,” Narcissa interjected, spying her perfect opportunity to wiggle some information out of both of them, “what is your plan for when you return? Are you going to continue living with Draco?”

“Umm, we haven’t really,” Hermione began trying to answer without choking on her food, and failing miserably. When she finished, she looked over to Draco who was waiting attentively for her answer, “discussed it. Everything has been so hectic, I assume I’ll still have the cave but I’m not sure how much time I’ll be spending there now I don’t have my magic and with any luck my house is on the market now, following the divorce.”

“You’ll be staying at mine, Hermione.” Draco stated, how she thought he’d even allow her to go back to the cave after everything that happened there baffled him.

“But that won’t be forever, Draco,” Hermione started, wishing more than anything that they weren’t having this conversation for the first time in front of his mother, “I’ll need more space once the babies arrive.” 

“Ah, yes!” Narcissa interjected, saving Hermione from whatever Draco’s next words were going to be, Narcissa had watched as his jaw set and his eyes became determined, knowing her son as she did, Hermione would not have been able to walk away from that conversation without her interference. “When are my darling grandbabies due?” 

“Late December,” Hermione hurriedly answered, grateful for the change in conversation, “but my Healer doesn’t expect me to carry to the full forty weeks. So, it’s more likely they’ll be born mid to late November, depending on how healthy we all are.”

Watching his mother's eyes glaze over, Draco softened slightly, this was why they were here. To share their news with his mother, even though she ruined the surprise of telling her that he was the dad. “You’ll be a Grandma by Christmas.” he said softly, smiling when Narcissa’s breath caught in her throat and she made some kind of noise between a sob and a hiccup.

Narcissa reached out and took Draco’s hand, watching as he mirrored the movement and took Hermione’s. Needing to feel connected to the pair of them, Narcissa also reached over and took Hermione’s other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before she let out a shriek of surprise and jumped to her feet.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Narcissa cried, her hands clapping together in the same way they had when she had found out about the twins, completely missing the look of bemusement on both Draco and Hermione’s faces. “When are you two getting married? Can I put an announcement in the Prophet? Oh, you simply have to let me put you in contact with this French dress designer I know, you’ll look stunning in one of her gowns.”

“Mum,” Draco said, his voice even as he tried to ignore the pang in his gut, he wished he was marrying Hermione and seeing how happy that would make his mother, well, that hurt a little, “we’re not getting married.”

“But...” Narcissa began, looking between the two of them in confusion, before grabbing Hermione’s hand and waving it in front of Draco’s face, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Sorry dear,” Narcissa hastily added, returning Hermione’s hand to the table.

“We’re not getting married,” Hermione started tentatively, she had already forgotten that she wore Draco’s ring and hadn't even considered what Narcissa would think when she saw it. Hermione felt a little sad as she burst Narcissa’s bubble, but she was only telling the truth. “Draco and I, we’re committed, but not getting married. I can’t, not after–”

“It’s ok,” Draco said, reassuring Hermione with a kiss to the hand he still held, “Hermione’s ex husband almost killed her and whilst marriage is something I want, I understand that it’s not something Hermione can give right now. Even thinking about it is painful.”

“But you’re not Ronald Weasley,” Narcissa started, her eyes silently imploring her son to do the right thing.

“No,” Draco confirmed, his eyes hard as he thought of the ginger bastard, “I’m not but, that also means not forcing someone into something they aren’t ready for.”

“So,” Narcissa began to ask, retaking her seat slowly and she tried to compose herself, “if Hermione decides she does want to get married again…”

“I’ll marry her in a heartbeat,” Draco replied quickly, peeking at Hermione as she sat with her eyes carefully averted, “but not until she’s ready and I’ll still be there if she’s never ready for that again.”

“I’m sorry, Narcissa,” Hermione said, “I’m sure it’s difficult to comprehend, but Ron hurt me in so many different ways, it’s going to take some time until I feel whole again. I don’t think it’s fair to only give Draco less than what I’m capable of.”

“That’s quite all right dear,” Narcissa acknowledged, her eyes lingering on the Malfoy crest as it glimmered in the mid-day sun, “I’ll just focus on my grandbabies.”

The rest of their lunch passed by easily, conversation sticking to the lighter subjects and, as Draco caught up with Naricssa, filling her in on the progress Malfoy Enterprises was making, Hermione felt her mind wander. 

Narcissa’s comments about their living situation and relationship were niggling at her. It was obvious she expected Draco to propose and whilst Hermione was grateful for the fact he quickly leapt to her defence and explained why he wasn’t pushing it, Hermione hadn’t missed the look mother and son had shared. 

Had Draco actually considered proposing? It very much sounded like it was something he wanted, yearned for in fact and Hermione couldn’t help but find herself surprised. Rolling her thumb over the smooth surface of the Malfoy ring, Hermione considered his words from that day again. Draco had stated the ring wasn’t a proposal but had he wanted it to be?

Unsure of how to process the thought that Draco was much further down the road of their relationship than she was, Hermione turned her mind to their living situation. She honestly hadn’t given much thought to what would happen when they returned home and Hermione was surprised at herself. It was so unlike her not to have a plan, did she subconsciously feel so secure with Draco that she didn’t feel the need to plan?

However, there was one thing she was sure about. When Monday rolled around and they both made their returns to the public eye, they would be under constant scrutiny. Hermione had no doubt the story of her disappearance with Draco had made the front page at some point and the wizarding community would have made up its own sordid story as to how her marriage fell apart. 

It was with great reluctance Hermione accepted Draco’s offered hand and walked with him to the front of the house. After hugging Narcissa goodbye and promising to keep her updated with news of her grandbabies, Hermione settled herself in the car, wishing more than anything for just a little more time to process her thoughts and feelings. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're here! The last quarter of the story! Holy shit!
> 
> I can't believe it's got this far.
> 
> Thanks to tridogmom for the magical alpha work <3

#  Chapter 19 - Rare

_ I am broken, I am insecure _

_ Complicated, oh yeah that's for sure _

_ I feel worthless, I've been hurt so bad _

_ I get nervous you won't love me back _

_ And I can't believe it, that you even exist _

_ You know I would be dumb to give perfection up _

_ How can I accept it, that this is so precious? _

_ You know I would be dumb to give perfection up _

_ You're rare _

_ And I'm loving every second of it, don't you know? _

Slipping out of the shower on Monday morning, Theodore Nott began mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. Draco was due to return to the office for the first time since Granger’s accident and Theo was sure it was going to be a long day. With a longing look at Daphne’s naked form, nestled soundly beneath his sheets, Theo crept quietly into the dressing room and changed into one of his many work suits. 

It wasn’t that Theo wasn’t looking forward to seeing his friend and boss, it was that he knew he would have to give Draco the full rundown of what had happened during his time in France. It was for that reason alone he had hauled himself out of bed early so he could review his notes— again— before Draco arrived. 

Placing a kiss against Daphne’s head, smiling as she stirred and mumbled his name, Theo grabbed his wand and made his way to his study so he could Floo to the office. As he walked to his office, Theo thought back on his years of work with Malfoy Enterprises. Having been hired— upon Narcissa’s recommendation— when Draco had taken extended leave following his release from Azkaban, Theo had overhauled the working practices and made sure the company ran like a fresh snitch. Pulling out the underhanded business practices by their roots knowing Draco wanted nothing left of his father's legacy. It had been tough, but Theo had enjoyed the work, found it rewarding and was proud of what he had accomplished in such a short space of time. 

However, it also made Draco cautious around him when he did indeed return. Despite Theo’s constant reassurances, he could tell Draco was still suspicious, no doubt thinking that Theo was trying to take his title of Chairman when it couldn’t really be farther from the truth. If Theo had wanted to run his own business, he could have easily transitioned into the role his own father left empty in Nott Industries, but having looked at the accounts and their trading history Theo decided to liquidate. At least with Malfoy Enterprises, Lucius had tried to keep some streams of revenue legitimate. Nott Industries was basically illegal trading around the world, whether it be information, creatures or potions. 

Draco’s caution meant nothing could progress without his signature, and in a time where his absence had been so sudden there had been no fail safes put in place. Malfoy Enterprises had just entered an exciting new phase in their potion development sector, something that if they pulled off would revolutionise the way St Mungo’s brewed their more complex potions, but to get that deal over the line Theo needed Draco’s signature to transfer funds to their new ingredient supplier. Which he wouldn’t have until later today. Had there been any competition in the market, Theo would have gone to France himself to obtain the signature but luckily the company's reputation and expertise meant St Mungo’s were willing to wait those few extra weeks. 

Walking into his office, Theo dropped into his seat behind his vast desk and pulled the first sheaf of parchment towards him. He had collated every article that had been published about Draco and Hermione during their break and every statement issued by himself or Potter to discount the false stories. It had been exhausting and every word from him had been carefully vetted by the company's press secretary. Theo hoped Draco would appreciate their effort to minimise the damage to both his and Hermione’s reputations. 

In the time since the initial article had been published, before Hermione had regained consciousness, the Prophet in particular had changed its view on Hermione specifically. What had begun as outrage at some unknown attacker harming the  _ Golden Girl _ , quickly turned to a scandalous affair. One reporter even had the audacity to claim Draco had pushed her down the stairs following an argument when she refused to leave Ron and had subsequently been arrested. When the news broke that Ron had been arrested, well… that turned it into a conspiracy story. 

Theo had even overheard two witches gossiping one night in the Leaky, about a week after Hermione and Draco’s departure from the hospital, claiming that Draco had kidnapped Hermione and would only return her once Ron was free so he could have his lover back. Theo had laughed so hard, he fell clean off his chair.

Moving the news articles to one side, Theo eyed the second batch of paperwork. He knew it was all in order, having meticulously checked it all the night before but it never hurt to give it a final once over and make sure he had everything together for Draco to sign. The first item on his agenda was to get Draco to allow him to have Gringotts privileges for new transactions. There was nothing more humiliating than telling one of the teams you have working for you that you couldn’t get them the funds they needed so they could continue with their work.

It was as Theo was finishing his second espresso of the morning that Draco appeared in his doorway, looking more relaxed than he had seen him in years. “I see you’ve had a good break,” Theo said in lieu of a greeting.

“Fantastic, actually, yes,” Draco replied, stepping further into Theo’s office and shutting the door behind him so they wouldn’t be interrupted.

“How is Hermione doing?” Theo enquired, leaning back casually in his chair. He had heard from Blaise that their time in France had been peaceful, no emergency calls to the Healer and no interruptions from the press but after seeing Draco so distraught in the hospital he wanted to hear it from him.

“She’s doing great,” Draco enthused, his face lighting up as he spoke of his witch. “She still doesn’t have her magic but physically she and the babies are strong and healthy.”

“Babies?” Theo queried, his brow arching as Draco’s face tensed. After years of reading Draco, Theo knew he hadn’t meant to let that slip. In the early stages Draco had been ridiculously tight lipped about Hermione’s situation and Theo wondered just how much had changed in their two weeks away.

With a sigh, Draco responded to Theo’s query, “it’s all going to come out anyway so I suppose there is no harm in you knowing now. Hermione is expecting twins,  _ my twins _ .”

“Whoa,” Theo exhaled, slumping back into his chair, the spring squeaking with the force of his movement, “you’re gonna be a dad.”

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Draco replied looking slightly bemused, as if he hadn’t thought of himself in those terms until that moment. 

“Just wait until the press gets hold of that!” Theo chuckled, sitting himself forward. “When’s the wedding? Should I be eagerly awaiting my owl with the invite? I can’t wait to tell Daphne!”

“We’re not getting married,” Draco replied shortly, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. 

“Huh?” Theo responded dumbly, not understanding Draco’s irritation. “She’s having your kids, why on earth would you not be getting married?”

With a sigh, Draco leaned back in his chair, wishing for the day when he didn’t have to sigh at the thought of marriage. “It’s complicated,” he stated, offering no further explanation. 

After a few moments of silence, Theo recovered, deciding to strike whilst the iron was hot and push for Gringotts rights realising that Draco’s time was going to be even more constricted than initially anticipated. “So then, shall we get down to business?”

At Draco’s nod, Theo charmed his office for privacy and straightened himself up, ready to get everything he needed to keep the business performing at its best.

After a gruelling few hours, Theo stepped out onto Diagon Alley, relishing the fresh summer's day. Somewhat surprisingly, Draco had agreed to Theo’s proposal and he was now able to get his job done without the constant need for Draco’s signature. It was liberating, in a few short months Draco would be off with Hermione, raising their children and Theo would be… sitting in an office waiting for Daphne to be ready for all of that.

Stumbling as the thought blindsided him, Theo caught himself, where had that come from? He was happy with Daphne, wasn’t he? There was no one else for him and he knew Daphne felt the same way, she just needed time to get to the same stage he was at. 

Laughing suddenly, Theo realised that maybe he had more in common with Draco than he thought. Assuming he’d read Draco’s irritation correctly, he wanted to marry Granger, legitimise the children and all that. To which she had either rejected him or hinted heavily it wasn’t something she wanted. Something he also wanted from Daphne. When Theo truly thought about it, to an  _ outsider _ it would be quite a daunting task but Daphne would have been primed for that since childhood, it was the daughters job to marry well and produce the next heir after all. 

Not that Theo was ready for Daphne to be bearing his heir, but a steady relationship would be a nice change of pace, a steady commitment from the girl he loved. Losing himself to a fantasy of marriage and family, Theo almost lost track of where he was walking. It wasn't until he heard shouting that Theo stopped and looked up, his eyes quickly finding the source of the commotion. 

“How dare you!” The blonde woman across the alley shouted, her back to Theo as she walked towards the other woman, gesticulating madly as she continued shouting. “How dare you show your face in public!”

Theo paused, he always enjoyed a good public spectacle and it seemed this witch was on a roll today. He watched as the blonde woman took a few more steps towards the source of her ire. From this angle Theo couldn’t see who she was talking to as she continued to put on a show. “You should be ashamed of what you’ve done to Ron!”

_ Oh shit. _ Theo thought, taking a quick step to the left to see over the blonde woman’s shoulder, hoping it wasn’t who he thought it was. As he clapped eyes on the woman carefully backing away from the blonde, she spoke and Theo hastened into action. It wasn’t a situation he really wanted to be involved in, but after seeing Hermione in the hospital and Draco’s reaction to her accident, Theo couldn’t stand there and allow the conversation to continue. If you could call it a conversation. 

“He’s the one that nearly killed me, Lavender.” Theo heard Hermione reply as he approached, stepping up quietly behind Lavender as she erupted.

“So he could marry me!” Lavender screamed, taking those few extra steps towards Hermione, making her back up against the dirty brick wall. 

Sensing now was the opportune moment, Theo darted around Lavender and placed himself in front of Hermione, enjoying the look of surprise on Lavender’s rounded red face as he halted her progress. “What seems to be the problem here?” Theo queried, a small attempt to diffuse the situation. In reality, he had no idea how to stop a fight, let alone a girl fight, but given Hermione’s current condition and her entanglement with his boss, Theo had to try something.

“Of course,” Lavender scoffed, her hands flailing before forming fists at her sides, “of course you have a bloody Slytherin bodyguard. Is that Death Eater scum paying you overtime to keep an eye on his whore?”

As Hermione gasped, Theo adopted his best and most insincere smile. “I just happened to be strolling past,” Theo explained with an air of calm, “but you should be careful just who you going calling a whore, Brown.”

“Are you threatening me?” Lavender asked, making sure to raise her voice so the shoppers walking past could hear her.

“Not at all!” Theo exclaimed merrily, tucking his hands into his pockets, ever the picture of nonchalance. “I was merely reminding you that your reputation precedes you, rumour has it  _ you’re _ some kind of streetwalker.”

Theo turned and smirked at Hermione as Lavender floundered in her rage, “I’ve heard she’s been ridden more times than the Hogwarts training brooms.” 

“At least I’m not bringing a Death Eaters evil spawn into this world,” Lavender seethed as Theo tried to guide Hermione past her and back onto the main street.

“Draco is  _ not _ evil,” Hermione said, speaking for the first time as she moved in front of Theo, recognising that hard glint of determination in her eye Theo stood back and watched with an idle fascination. “We haven’t done anything to hurt you, Lavender. I was ready to sign those divorce papers and break the bonds safely but Ron  _ chose _ to act on his own, knowing it was an arrestable offence. I may not have been perfect during our marriage, but nor was Ron.”

“You know Ron came to me the day you told him you cheated,” Lavender sneered, trying one last time to get a rise from Hermione but before Hermione could answer Theo stepped forward. 

“I seem to recall that evening it was  _ you _ who approached Weasley, not the other way around,” Theo retorted, remembering the evening with perfect clarity. He and Daphne had stopped in at the Leaky on their way through to dinner, as they’d sat in their booth with their drinks, they watched in delight as Weasley had proceeded to pour out his soul to the barkeep and drown his sorrows. It hadn’t been long before Brown made her way over to him and started making her move and before they knew it, she and the Weasel had disappeared in a roar of green flames. “Which means you are nothing more than a one night stand gone wrong.”

With that, Theo placed a hand on the small of Hermione’s back and forcefully led her away from the toxic spluttering bint, realising as he did so that Hermione was shaking slightly. As they reached the shaded awning of Fortescue’s ice cream parlour Theo drew out a chair for Hermione before seating himself opposite her, “quite a first day back for you huh? I almost didn’t recgonise you.”

“You could say that, yes,” Hermione mused quietly, breathing deeply as she tried to steady her nerves.

“Should I get Draco?” Theo enquired, now that he was alone with Hermione and Brown seemed to have disappeared, he wasn’t too sure what to do with her. It went against his sensibilities to just leave the woman alone after she had been accosted, but aside from Draco’s birthday dinner— where he hadn’t been perfectly behaved— he barely knew her.

“No,” Hermione answered quickly, surprising Theo with her sudden intensity, “thank you, Theo. I just need a minute to settle myself.”

“Okay,” Theo replied leaning back in his chair and turning his attention to the steady stream of shoppers. Theo supposed Hermione’s reluctance to summon Draco was something to do with Draco’s habit of over reacting where Hermione was concerned. 

When she had been unconscious in the hospital, Draco had been like a man possessed, hounding the Healers for updates, belittling them when they couldn’t predict when she would regain consciousness. Despite the fact that he knew they were doing the best they could, he had even admitted the Healers had been fantastic when they had visited. 

Theo imagined that now he would react even worse, knowing for certain the children Hermione carried were his. Looking over at her now as she too watched the shoppers milling around, Theo appreciated the new hairstyle and how her pregnancy was more pronounced than it had been at the hospital. It made him think yet again of Daphne; how she’d look round with his heir, if she would want more than one of the little blighters and if they would ever get to that stage.

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Theo was interrupted by his thoughts by Hermione, “thank you, Theo. You didn’t have to intervene but I’m grateful that you did,” she said softly.

Laughing, Theo sat forward in his chair, “I think Draco would have bludgered me if I’d just walked on past, but that’s not the reason I stopped. If Brown had cursed you, I wouldn’t be able to taste that sumptuous chocolate cake you baked ever again.”

“Well,” Hermione giggled, “at least you’re honest!” To which Theo grinned in reply.

“Now, what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?” Theo asked, quirking an eyebrow as Hermione’s face fell, “I need to be back at Malfoy Enterprises for a meeting this afternoon with your darling Draco and I’d rather not be late.”

“Oh, yes, well,” Hermione mumbled, her nails scratching over the scar on her forearm unconsciously, “I’m not needed back at the Ministry until tomorrow, I was going to shop until Draco finished but after Lavender…”

“Come back to the office with me then,” Theo suggested, rising from his chair and extending his hand to Hermione, “Draco will be thrilled to see you.”

“I don’t want to distract him from his work,” Hermione answered, placing her hand in Theo’s and allowing him to help her up. “He’s going to ask why I’m not going back to the Ministry, once I tell him he’s not going to let it go.”

“It’ll be fine,” Theo said reassuringly, leading Hermione back through the winding cobbles of Diagon Alley, “we’ve got a meeting this afternoon he absolutely can not skip out on. Sure he’ll pump you for information but just ask him to take you home and promise him all the details later, simple.”

“Have you met Draco?” Hermione questioned with a laugh, keeping pace with Theo as they made their steady way towards the Leaky so they could return to Muggle London. 

“Funnily enough, I have,” Theo answered giving Hermione a cheeky wink, “but I think you know him more  _ intimately _ than I do.”

“Shut up, Theo,” Hermione bantered back, making Theo jump to the side to avoid a swift elbow to the ribs.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Daphne,” Theo declared, pushing open the solid black door which led to the reception area of Malfoy Enterprises, “she always telling me to shut up in that annoying cute tone.”

“You should probably learn when to keep your mouth shut then, Nott,” Draco’s voice called from the elevator he had just stepped out of, stopping Theo in his tracks as Draco looked between Theo and Hermione. “Everything alright?”

“Perfect,” Theo remarked casually, trying his best to keep up his aura of nonchalance so their meeting this afternoon stayed on track, “I bumped into Hermione here in Diagon and she mentioned wanting to go home, knowing the restrictions on her magic we decided it best to bring her back here so you could quickly take her before our meeting.” Theo kept his calm smile on his face as Draco looked to Hermione for confirmation of his statement. 

“Theo’s right,” Hermione answered calmly, stepping toward Draco and pecking him on the cheek, “I’m not needed at the Ministry and I’d like to go home and nap please.”

Watching as Draco turned all his attention to Hermione, Theo noticed how strong their bond seemed to be, the tension that was in Draco’s shoulders had vanished and Hermione looked comfortable under Draco’s careful scrutiny. Receiving a nod and a rare smile from Draco, Theo sensed he was dismissed and made his way upstairs to make sure the meeting room was prepared for their presentation. 

When Draco returned not ten minutes later with a quick “thank you,” before turning the conversation back to work, Theo breathed a sigh of relief and turned his attention to re-reading his presentation notes for the fourth time.

Back at Draco’s cottage, Hermione found herself unable to settle. Her nerves were jangled by the confrontation with Lavender. She knew there would be a backlash, expected it even, but Hermione had always thought it would be judgemental stares from strangers. Not verbal confrontations with her ex-husband's new girlfriend who also happened to be pregnant. 

Making her way out into Draco’s small garden, Hermione considered Lavender’s words. Should she be ashamed? Despite the fact herself and Ron were on a break at the time she slept with Draco, she supposed she had technically had an affair in the most literal terms. She had slept with someone who wasn’t her husband. 

Searching her emotions Hermione realised she didn’t feel ashamed at all. Lavender’s insinuation that she should be angered her. They were adults for Merlin's sake. Adults that had decided to put their marriage on hold, a decision that should have never been made public or judged. As long as at the time she and Ron had been happy with their decision, no one else's opinion should matter. They had done what was best for them at the time. 

The events that followed were outside of her control. How was she supposed to know her contraceptive would fail? Why was she the one getting condemned for being pregnant when Ron had gotten not one, but  _ two _ witches pregnant in the space of a few months. Had they even  _ tried _ to be responsible? 

Realising working herself up wasn’t good for her or the babies, Hermione turned abruptly and retreated to the living room. Wanting to use her energy for something productive instead of brooding, Hermione picked up the book Nariccsa had owled over the prior day. Just because the Ministry had reduced her hours so she only worked mornings didn’t mean she couldn’t continue her rune research in her own time. 

Grabbing a glass of water, her notebook and her pen, Hermione settled herself in the plush cushions of Draco’s sofa, crossing her legs beneath her. Placing the glass onto the side table, Hermione balanced Narcissa’s book against her ankles where they crossed and opened it to the page she needed.

There, splayed out across the double page, were the runes carved into the floor of the cave pool. Hermione was grateful for Draco’s initial reluctance to believe these runes were the reason she now carried his children. In the moment, Narcissa’s story seemed to fit their own almost perfectly, but it was a theory that suited the facts. What Hermione really needed was facts to suit the theory. 

Running her finger over the old worn page, Hermione recited the names of the runes before coming to rest on the one they had missed.

“Algiz,” she whispered to herself, “the Elk; for protection, shielding and warding off evil.”

After her accident, Draco had told her of the cage of light surrounding her as she lay unconscious in the water, something Harry later confirmed seeing in Draco’s memory. She hadn’t given much thought to where the cage came from or why it had protected her from death but now Hermione wondered if it gave more credibility to Narcissa’s idea. 

Studying each rune individually, Hermione thought back over the last few months and came to the startling discovery that all five of the runes seemed to directly impact her life. Eihwaz had provided her with the strength to carry on. Algiz had protected her from death. Berkano had blessed her with her children, offering her a new beginning and the opportunity to grow. 

Fehu, however, could be attributed to so many things; luck at not falling further into the water, enhancing her fertility and ability to create the lives now growing in her womb and the energy to keep her heart beating when she was so close to the edge. The final rune, Ingwaz, had most likely increased Draco’s fertility whilst also ensuring a safe environment for their children to gestate.

Resting herself back against the cushioned arm, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to absorb this new information. If she could prove that these runes affected herself and Draco, she was one step closer to unravelling the mystery of the caves magical signature. Idly, Hermione wondered if Draco would consent to do a fertility test? She was obviously fertile. Better yet, had his magical core been strengthened due to his extended exposure to the cave like hers had?

Feeling a flutter in her stomach, Hermione rested her hand against the area she’d felt the movement. As it happened again, Hermione was struck by a sudden thought— what if the cave had not only knocked out her contraceptive, but made her more susceptible to twins? Removing the books balanced on her legs, Hermione got up and made her way over to the bookcase, looking for the book of twin pregnancies she had bought long ago. 

Lifting it off the shelf, Hermione returned to her seat and thumbed through the index, frantically looking for the page on how the conception of twins happened. She knew there were two different types of twins, identical and fraternal but which were hers? Would it put more stock in her pregnancy being assisted by the magic of the cave?

As she read through the pages, Hermione realised she would need to consult with Healer Bradstone. They were scheduled for their eighteen week scan in just under two weeks, having already decided to find out the sex of the babies Hermione wondered if she would also be able to confirm if they were identical or fraternal twins. 

Reading the text again Hermione wondered if their designation would give any clues as to their conception. Identical twins were one fertalised egg which split into two separate embryos, sharing a placenta whereas fraternal twins were two completely separate eggs which implanted into the wall of the uterus at the same time. 

The possibility for magical intervention was true in both cases. To conceive fraternal twins there had to be something in the mothers body to trigger the release of the additional egg, yet, for identical twins  _ something _ triggered the fertalised egg to split. With no history of twins in her family, Hermione was no closer to understanding the mystery of the twins conception that she had been before her brainwave. She just had more questions. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Apologies for the late update! I moved house last week so everything was a bit upside down. On the plus side, I’m nearly finished with the last two chapters and if I get them done quickly, I’ll update every week!
> 
> Alpha love as always to TriDogMom!

The rest of the week and the one that followed passed by in a blur of offices and courtrooms, the one shining spot throughout it all was the appointment they had today with Healer Bradstone. In Draco’s opinion it was a perfect start to what was sure to be a nerve wracking weekend with Hermione’s parents.

Walking through the Ministry on his way to collect Hermione, Draco couldn’t stop the spring in his step nor the smile which was plastered onto his face. All being well, once Healer Bradstone had checked the babies development— again— they would be finding out the sex. He and Hermione had both agreed that they wanted to know and Draco was excited to see the shimmering silhouettes of his children. Even though Hermione had been carefully monitored during their time in France having two additional scans just to check the bond breaking wasn’t affecting the babies, seeing them always filled him with excitement. 

Rapping his knuckles against the door frame of Hermione’s office, Draco waited to be called in before walking in and greeting Hermione. “Hey,” he said with a smile as Hermione smiled back and tidied away her paperwork, “how’s your day been?”

“Good,” Hermione replied, picking up her bag and stepping over to give Draco a quick peck on the cheek, “I made some good progress with my notes so I’m ready for Monday with Healer Norton. How’s your day?”

“That sounds promising,” Draco agreed, wrapping his arm around Hermione’s waist as they passed through her office corridor and up the short steps to the Atrium. “Fairly mediocre honestly, I’ve been looking forward to the scan so much nothing has held my attention.”

Expecting some kind of reaction from Hermione and getting none, Draco looked down to find her staring straight ahead, her face devoid of any emotion. It was then he took in her now rigid posture and the strong clasp of her hand against his coat, looking around them Draco watched as various people looked at them, before turning to the person beside them to whisper. 

They had been dealing with stares and whispers ever since their return but now Ron’s trial was concluded people didn’t even try to hide their judgemental stares. Everything was out in the open and Draco was grateful to Theo for the damage control he did during their time in France, he had a feeling the stares would have been worse without Theo’s hard work. But, that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Whilst Draco thought Hermione looked gorgeous, the fabric of her top accentuating her breasts and clinging to the very obvious curve of her stomach, Draco could tell Hermione felt self conscious in light of the stares they were receiving. Pulling her closer, Draco whispered “just ignore them,” into her ear.

“I’m trying,” Hermione replied, lips barely moving as her pace increased, “let's just get out of here. Please?”

Agreeing with a simple squeeze to her waist, Draco sped up, leading them out of the Ministry and down the road to Healer Bradstone’s office. Pushing the door open and stepping into the inviting waiting room Draco pulled Hermione to him, one hand moving to caress her bump as the other went to rest against her cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know that right? Don’t let the nosey Ministry assholes ruin today.”

“I know  _ you _ think I’m beautiful,” Hermione said quietly, leaning into Draco’s touch and taking solace in it, “I’m just—”

“Ms Granger?” a voice interrupted, “Mr Malfoy? Healer Bradstone is ready for you.”

Pressing a kiss to Hermione’s forehead, Draco entwined their hands and led them to the familiar office of Healer Bradstone. Knocking once before cracking open the door and walking in.

“Hermione,” Healer Bradstone greeted warmly, “Draco, it’s good to see you again. Are we excited for today?”

“Absolutely,” Draco readily agreed, following Healer Bradstone and Hermione as they moved back to the examination table. Taking his customary position next to Hermione as she settled herself and shimmed the elasticated waistband of her trousers down before pulling her top up to expose her gloriously rounded stomach. 

“After all our surprises, I’m looking forward to knowing what we’re having,” Hermione agreed, settling herself back and automatically reaching for one of Draco’s hands. 

Moving forward, Healer Bradstone stood next to Hermione and whipped her wand out to dim the lights in her office before running her standard diagnostic tests. “I know I’ve been checking the overall development of the babies every week but before we get to the exciting part I need to do an in-depth check. Specifically; their bone structures, heart and brain development, their kidneys and abdomen along with the development of their spinal cords and facial structures.”

Letting Healer Bradstone do her work, Draco shifted forward, “do you know what you want?” he asked Hermione. Draco’s mind had been racing at the possibilities since he’d been confirmed as the father, did he want two rambunctious boys? Two darling little girls? Or one of each? And what would they look like? Would they have his blonde locks combined with Hermione’s riotous curls or vice versa? Hermione’s soft features, complete with button nose and rosy cheeks or his high cheekbones and sharp eyes?

“I don’t think I mind,” Hermione answered quietly, her own mind considering the options. “Girls could be easier as I am one, but then, I spent so much time with Ajax, boys don’t seem as daunting.”

“Well,” Healer Bradstone interrupted, “I can confirm they are both very healthy. They are progressing perfectly.” Stepping to the side, she waved her wand and the sound of two heartbeats filled the room. Waving it again, she focused on one of the golden apparitions, rotating it so Hermione and Draco could have a complete three hundred and sixty degree view.

“Are you ready to learn the sex?” Healer Bradstone asked, smiling as both Hermione and Draco nodded eagerly in return. “Well then, right here— we have your  _ son _ . And this right here,” she continued, changing the focus from one baby to the other and doing the same rotation, “is your  _ daughter _ . Congratulations.”

Draco felt his heart stop as Hermione gasped and squeezed his hand tightly. He was going to have a son,  _ and _ a daughter. Words completely failed him. Long ago he had given up on thoughts of a family but as he looked down at Hermione who had tears in her eyes, it was all he could see. These last few months had been testing, but it would all be worth it when he got to meet his children. 

Distantly, Draco was aware of Healer Bradstone rearranging the picture so both babies could be seen and stepping away to give them some privacy but his gaze was focused solely on Hermione. A tear had escaped and was now rolling gently down her cheek 

“I love you,” Draco said, pulling Hermione’s hand to his chest as he pressed a kiss to her lips. Hearing Healer Bradstone’s footsteps move away, Draco ran his nose against Hermione’s before kissing her again sweetly. 

Turning himself, Draco stared in awe at the apparitions before him.  _ His son and his daughter _ . Pressing gentle kisses to Hermione’s hand as he held it, Draco took a deep unsteady breath. He could hear Hermione breathing shakily beside him and he just  _ knew _ she was as affected as he was. The relief of finally having all their questions answered was astounding and without the doubt which shrouded them, they could finally enjoy their first family moment.

A few minutes later, Healer Bradstone joined them once again and charmed the apparitions to appear on photographic paper, complete with a little note on each to point out which baby they were looking at. “I’ve updated your notes,” she said gently, moving to cancel the apparition and heartbeat monitor, “do you have any questions or concerns?”

“I’m just so glad they are healthy,” Draco replied, picking up the scan images Healer Bradstone had made for them and glancing at them before tucking them safely away in his jacket pocket.

“Will I still need to come in every week?” Hermione asked as she readjusted her clothing and sat herself up on the bench.

“Yes please,” Healer Bradstone responded, summoning her diary over to her, “I know everything we’ve seen so far is positive but twins do require more monitoring and with your unique situation, I think it’s best.”

“Can we keep our Friday appointments?” Hermione queried, resting her hands over the bump as Draco walked round to join her.

“Absolutely,” Healer Bradstone agreed, charming a thirty minute slot into every Friday for the next few months. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Draco turned to Hermione, knowing the question wasn’t really aimed at him as she answered, “I don’t think so.”

“Perfect,” Healer Bradstone replied as Hermione and Draco made their way to the door, “I’ll see you both next week then.”

“Thank you,” Draco said, wrapping his arm back around Hermione and holding the door open for her. Noticing as he did so, that she didn’t automatically lean into his embrace. 

“We’ll see you next week,” Hermione confirmed with a nod to Healer Bradstone as Draco steered her out into the reception area. 

“Are you ok?” Draco asked as soon as the door closed behind them. Noticing that there was something off with Hermione’s demeanor. 

“Yeah,” Hermione answered, rearranging her bag on her shoulder and avoiding Draco’s gaze, “I’m fine.”

As Draco went to open his mouth and push Hermione into telling him what was wrong, he thought better of it. They were in a public space. Not the perfect environment for a personal conversation, instead, Draco replayed the last half hour over in his head. 

Could she still be thinking of those stares they received in the Ministry? Was she feeling anxious seeing her parents this weekend? Or had he said something to upset her? Keeping his arm around her as they walked back through Muggle London, Draco considered what he could have said to make her clam up.

Waiting for a traffic light to turn red, realisation struck him.

He’d said he loved her.

Draco froze as he remembered the words tumbling from his lips. So innocent and carefree. As Hermione moved to cross the road with the other pedestrians he forced himself back to the present. It can’t have been something as simple as  _ I love you _ .

Yet, the more Draco thought about it, the more it seemed a distinct possibility. He could only recall saying it once before and that had been whilst she was unconscious following the accident. But why would she react so oddly to it? Surely she knew he was in love with her? 

They lived together, they were having children together  _ and _ she wore his Malfoy ring. Hadn’t she said back in France that he was everything she wanted? That he was her home and nothing would come between them?

Panic gripped Draco’s heart as he wondered if she had perhaps, had a change of heart? Would the fates be so cruel as to give him everything he wanted only to snatch it away when things were finally starting to settle down? Or maybe, she didn’t think she needed him as much anymore? Without the stress of her marriage and the  _ need _ for a confidant was he suddenly surplus to requirements?

As Malfoy Enterprises loomed into view, Draco realised Hermione was about to go home, he couldn’t spend the rest of the afternoon dwelling on the ifs, buts and maybes, he needed her reassurance. Leading them through the double doors at the front of the building and straight to his personal lift, Draco frantically tried to think of what to say. He absolutely couldn’t ask her if she loved him, that just seemed too desperate, but there had to be something in that realm, surely?

Pushing open the door to his office and then hastily sealing and warding it for privacy, Draco steeled himself to say something,  _ anything _ , to Hermione. Reaching out to take her hand before she could grab the Floo powder, Draco pulled her close.

“Hermione,” he began, forcing himself to take a steadying breath before he continued, “when we’re with your parents this weekend and they ask us about our relationship… what is our answer?”

Hearing her sharp intake of breath Draco  _ knew _ that she knew he was referring to his earlier statement at the scan and panicking about her lack of response. “We live together, we’re going to raise children—  _ together _ and you’ve been wearing my ring for weeks now but I,” Draco paused, releasing one of Hermione’s hands so he could reach back and grip the back of his neck, giving himself a moment to consider his next words. “I don’t even know what to call you. Are you my girlfriend? My partner? The woman I got pregnant accidentally and now live with?”

Silence filled the room and as Draco looked into Hermione’s eyes, he could read that she was silently begging him to not make her answer but he held her gaze, letting her know he wasn’t going to back down this time. It wasn’t that he was looking for her to profess her undying love for him, he wanted to hear that when she was good and ready. But he needed some kind of affirmation that she was still as committed to this as he was.

It was hard being the more affectionate one in the relationship, each interaction seemed to be instigated by him. Whilst he was now perfectly content to pull her closer and kiss her deeper, therefore satisfying his need to be close to her, it would be nice to feel wanted, needed, desired.

Letting another minute pass, Draco watched as Hermione opened and then closed her mouth again. Usually it was funny to see her speechless but right now, he needed to hear her speak.

“Draco,” Hermione began, nibbling on her lower lip as she looked into his eyes, “aren’t you happy?”

“Happy?” Draco queried, titling his head to the side to study her, “I’m ecstatic! But you’ve totally shut down because I said—” 

“I know what you said,” Hermione replied softly, squeezing his hands tightly trying to blink back the tears. “I’m just…”

“I don’t want you to say it back,” Draco assured her, pulling her to his chest and kissing the top of her head, “not until you’re ready but, what are we?”

“Do we really need to be focusing on labelling it?” Hermione asked, her voice muffled by her proximity to Draco’s chest, “we’ve got so much going on, if we’re both happy can’t we just… go with it?”

Sighing, Draco realised that this was another thing they would need to discuss later. Since their return from France, Hermione hadn’t mentioned their living arrangements and Draco was somewhat reluctant to bring it up out of fear that she’d insist on returning to the cave. But, they couldn’t keep going on like this. Their lives were going to change, drastically, in a few short months and if they couldn’t even agree on what their relationship was and where they would live, how would they decide how to raise their children? 

“I’ll try,” Draco acquiesced, stepping back from Hermione and pressing a chaste kiss against her lips, “just, maybe try and give it some thought at home this afternoon?”

“I promise,” Hermione agreed with a small smile, pecking her lips to his cheek, Draco watched as she turned and took a pinch of Floo powder before throwing it down into the fire. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there,” Draco agreed, watching her vanish as the green flames roared. Making his way to his desk, Draco sat heavily in his chair and tried his best to get through the next few hours so he could enjoy his weekend with Hermione and her parents.

Stepping out of the Floo and into Draco’s living room, Hermione dropped her bag on the floor in a daze and turned to head upstairs for a shower. She needed to think and a steady stream of hot water always helped clear her head.

Draco had said  _ I love you _ . The words had fallen from his lips so easily Hermione knew he hadn’t realised until they’d left Healer Bradstone.

The words themselves didn’t surprise her. It was her reaction to them. 

Pushing her face forward into the hot spray, Hermione replayed his words again.  _ I love you. _ The simple memory of his voice making her heartbeat stutter and thrum in her chest. She had almost,  _ almost _ , said the words back to him. But, as her lips had parted she had been overcome with a fear so strong her voice had died. 

Those three little words didn’t scare her, it was letting herself fall  _ in love _ with Draco. She had fallen so hard and so fast with Ron and she had only ended up hurt. Putting herself out there again terrified her. Allowing someone else to have the power to crush her.

Shaking her head Hermione reminded herself that Draco was not Ron. She could trust Draco, she  _ did _ trust Draco. But that still didn’t mean she was ready for such a commitment yet. Mentally, Hermione scoffed at herself before looking down at her protruding bump, not ready for such a commitment?  _ I’m living in his house, having his children and wearing his ring— why can’t I explain my feelings and call Draco my boyfriend? _

But, even as she thought it, Hermione cringed away from the label. Boyfriend seemed so juvenile given their situation, yet partner suggested a longer term relationship, one that was established and solid. 

With a sigh, Hermione reached for the body wash and proceeded to lather up, this was part of the reason she was reluctant to put a label on their relationship, nothing seemed to fit. Hopefully, meeting her parents and brother would keep Draco occupied this weekend so she had more time to think about the concept of  _ them _ .

Rinsing herself off and grabbing her towel, Hermione padded back into the bedroom, realising once again just how much of their lives they now shared together. Her clothes were hung in Draco’s wardrobe, she had drawers in Draco’s chest for underwear and the top of the chest was littered with her personal items. Hairbrushes. Deodorants. Make up. Perfumes… when had they gotten so comfortable with each other?


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to everyone who has commented on this, I simply love seeing what people are thinking and feeling as this progresses.
> 
> Alpha love as always to TriDogMom!

Hours later, having napped most of the afternoon away following her shower, Hermione was waiting for Draco to return home so they could go visit her parents in her childhood home. Throwing down a light summer dress, aiming vaguely for the overnight bag she was packing, Hermione turned and admired her bump in Draco’s full length mirror. Prior to Draco’s question about what she wanted, Hermione hadn’t given much thought to the gender of her children, having been so focused on the surprise of falling pregnant and the subsequent  _ issues _ . But knowing she was going to have a son and a daughter suddenly made the whole concept of motherhood much more real. It had taken her a while but she could finally say she was excited to become a mum. 

These two little flickers that she carried would grow right before her eyes, blossoming into fully fledged mini humans. Challenging her and Draco constantly to  _ be _ better,  _ do _ better. As if they could tell she was thinking about them, the twins began to wiggle and squirm inside her, a new feeling which delighted and surprised her every time it happened. To begin with, it had just felt like a subtle itch beneath her skin but when she’d mentioned it to Draco his face lit up and he excitedly told her those were the first signs of movement. Since that point, everytime she mentioned feeling movement Draco’s hands were there, waiting for the day it was strong enough for him to feel.

Lifting up the hem of her shirt, Hermione stepped closer to the mirror and inspected the stretched skin of her stomach, her fingers tracing the lines where faint stretch marks could be seen. Thinking of Draco and his adorable excitement for the scan, Hermione felt a flutter of guilt. After everything they had been through together she still hadn’t opened up to him. The words  _ I love you _ replayed in her mind, forcing her to try and dissect her reaction to his statement. 

Hermione had no doubt that she felt  _ something _ for Draco. Everytime she pictured her future, he was in it— part of it—  _ it _ . But knowing that didn’t quell her fear. She had opened herself up so completely to Ron and invested so much of herself into their relationship that the prospect of doing that again with Draco terrified her. To say those words back to him, meant she had fallen in love with him and that simply wouldn’t do. How could she be in love with him so soon? As she turned to look at the other side of her bump, hoping to gain a new perspective on her thoughts, Hermione found Draco stood in the doorway, his hungry gaze lingering on the swell of her stomach.

“Remind me to thank you mother again for that body lotion,” Hermione remarked, moving to settle the shirt back down over her stomach, “it’s an absolute dream and has helped keep the stretch marks at bay.”

However, before she could finish re-dressing herself Draco had crossed the room and halted her progress, his hands spreading to touch as much skin as physically possible. “No need to cover up for me,” he murmured into Hermione’s ear, his breath making her shiver as it tickled her skin. As much as their earlier conversation still stung, he simply couldn’t resist seeing Hermione’s bare skin, stretched to accommodate his children.

“I’m not,” Hermione assured him, trying to dislodge his hands so she could continue packing, “I got distracted and if we don’t get moving soon we’ll be late for dinner.”

“Your parents won’t mind if we’re a few minutes late,” Draco insisted, placing a kiss on Hermione’s neck as he tickled at her sides. 

“I know that,” Hermione agreed easily, sliding her fingers between Draco’s and using his hands to pull her shirt down, “but you know I don’t want to miss putting Ajax to bed.”

“Fine,” Draco sighed with a theatrical roll of his eyes that only made Hermione laugh, “do you need a hand packing?”

“Nope,” Hermione said throwing a few more pieces into her bag, they were only staying with her parents for two nights and had no specific plans but without her magic Hermione thought it prudent to pack a few options lest she have to send Draco back to retrieve something she later needed. “Are you ready?”

“Ready to leave or ready to formally meet your parents?” Draco queried, flashing her a smile as he lifted his already packed bag from the floor, “I have different answers for both questions.”

When the weekend had been originally suggested, Draco had been thrilled. Meeting the parents— formally— felt like a big step in the right direction. For the first time he wouldn’t be the guy Hermione was bullied by at school, he wouldn’t be the guy that had turned into a friend or the guy who had mistakenly got her pregnant. He would be Draco Malfoy, the guy Hermione Granger took home to her family. Yet, he felt awkward. 

Draco wasn’t intending on hiding his affections from Hermione’s parents, he wanted to act naturally. But he could tell he was going to be questioning his every move, over analysing every touch. He didn’t want to give the impression they were something they weren’t and without any definition from Hermione yet, he felt lost in limbo. 

As Hermione zipped up her own bag, she looked up at him and smiled, “you’ll be fine,” she said before turning and leaving the room. “They’ve met you before and didn’t give you a hard time.”

“This is different,” Draco insisted, following Hermione from the room. He wanted to make a good impression with Hermione’s parents. When they visited whilst Hermione was in hospital, he’d had Potter talking him up which had been a nice surprise but he didn’t want Hermione to  _ need _ to do that. Draco wanted her parents to like him, for him. 

“Just be yourself Draco, if they can forgive me for wiping their memories they can deal with the fact that you were a prat at school,” Hermione promised him, her hand resting against his cheek. “Despite everything I’ve done to them, they still trust me and they trust my judgement so please, just relax.”

“I’ll try,” Draco confirmed, resolving himself to take the lead from Hermione. If she sat close to him, he’d embrace her. If she leaned in for a kiss, he’d return it. Looping his arm around Hermione’s waist, Draco clung to her tightly and concentrated his thoughts on her parents home before apparating them away.

Hugo and Maia Granger were nothing like Draco had ever experienced before. As he and Hermione walked across the threshold to their modest home, Draco had his hand firmly shaken by Mr Granger before being embraced by Mrs Granger. All while Hermione was frantically greeted by the zooming two year that was Ajax, her younger brother. 

Their home had a warmth, something he had previously only associated with Hermione and Draco very quickly realised it was her parents' influence. Despite his anxiety, it was almost impossible to feel under scrutiny when every word and action carried with it some kind of familiarity. 

Depositing their bags in Hermione’s old bedroom, Draco quickly returned to the kitchen where they shared dinner. A lively affair which was in stark comparison to the family meals Draco had been used to growing up. What would have been a quiet conversation at the Manor was spirited debate, laughter and a small amount of bribery to try and get Ajax to eat his greens. As they finished up dessert, a steaming and sumptuous apple and blueberry crumble, Hermione’s mother announced it was time to put Ajax to bed and for the men to clear the table. 

With a laugh, Draco watched as Hermione joined her mother, trying to cajole a moping Ajax as she carried him from the room. As the door closed behind them Draco suddenly realised he was alone with Hermione’s father. Draco watched as he stood from the table and began rolling up his sleeves, as he began to stack their plates Draco whipped out his wand and stood, “please, allow me Mr Granger.”

“None of that Mr Granger nonsense, it's Hugo,” he replied, watching as Draco levitated the plates over to the sink and charmed them to wash and dry themselves. “I thought I told you that at the hospital,” Hugo continued, teasing, “I’ve never known someone as young as you be so formal.” 

“Force of habit I guess,” Draco answered, shrugging his shoulders as the plates returned themselves to their appropriate cupboards. 

“You need to loosen up,” Hugo commented with a laugh, Draco almost reminded him of his younger self. Working so hard to live up to the expectations of his parents, until Maia came along that is. “Enjoy your life, you only get to live it once you know.”

Nodding as he absorbed Hugo’s wods, Draco followed him into the living room, accepting a glass of what he assumes is whiskey if the colour is anything to go by. Settling himself in one of the two sofas, Draco wondered if he needed to try and explain where his formality came from, but he was saved by Hugo asking, “is Hermione really as well as she tells us?”

Surprised, but doing his best not to show it, Draco took a sip of his drink and answered Hugo honestly, hoping the man would respect him for it instead of possibly berating Hermione later. “Physically, she is perfectly well and the babies are healthy, but magically… the Healers can’t give us any indication of when her magic will return or how powerful it will be.”

“In all honesty,” Draco continued, almost finding it reassuring to voice his concern to someone who knew Hermione so well, “Hermione handled it all brilliantly but I’m worried about the what if’s.”

“What do you mean?” Hugo asked, pulling himself forward in his chair so his elbows could rest on his knees, his own tumbler of whiskey held loosely in his hands.

“Well,” Draco hesitated, unsure if he could continue until he remembered Hermione’s declaration that she didn’t hide  _ anything _ from her parents now, “the Ministry have reduced her hours because she can’t magically do a lot of the work she used to. So, what if her magic never comes back and she is deprived of doing the job she loves?”

Draco watched as Hugo pondered his statement for a moment, noticing as he did so that Hermione got her exact hair and eye colour from her father. “If I know my daughter like I think I do, there are probably at least ten different jobs she could do and love just as much as being an Unspeakable. As long as she’s learning, she’s happy.”

With it put so simply, Draco wondered why that particular thought had been niggling at him for so long. Hugo was right, the one thing Hermione loved above everything else was knowledge and Draco could think of countless opportunities where she could put that thirst for knowledge to good use. 

“Did the hearing at the Ministry go well?” Hugo queried as Draco sipped at his drink again, “I liked Ron. He and Harry worked so hard to find us when we were in Australia.”

“You can imagine how shocked we were when Harry turned up and told us about Hermione’s accident,” Maia stated as she and Hermione joined them in the living room.

“Not as shocked as I was when I woke up,” Hermione retorted, settling herself down next to Draco as her mother sat with her father. Part of why they were spending so much time with her parents this weekend was to have the opportunity to bring them up to speed with the rollercoaster that was her life. 

“In answer to your question, Hugo,” Draco began, pulling Hermione in tightly to his side, “it went as well as these things can go.”

“Meaning what?” Maia enquired, her sharp mind wanting to know the facts of the matter.

“Meaning,” Hermione answered, steeling herself to get all the information out, “Ron had committed three transgressions whilst he was an Auror, of which I only knew one.” When no one made to interrupt her, Hermione continued, “when he was in training he lost his temper and hexed his trainer,  _ after _ the simulated duel was over, that was strike one.”

“Strike two happened whilst we were separated. Ron slept with Olivia whilst they were on a mission— the first one after our separation began— which usually, as long as it doesn’t affect their work isn’t an issue, but…” Hermione paused, willing herself to say the words. 

To say she had been shocked when Madam Bones announced Ron’s second transgression would be an understatement, if it hadn’t been for the strength of Draco and Ginny sitting next to her, Hermione was sure she would have passed out. Taking a deep breath, Hermione composed herself as Draco gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, “Ron got Olivia pregnant.”

Silence echoed around the room and as it became clear that Hugo and Maia were in shock, and Hermione unable to continue speaking, Draco picked up where she had left off. “Ron’s third strike was the unlawful breaking of his marriage bonds to Hermione. He’s been ordered to pay reparations to Hermione for his negligence and has been stripped of his Auror’s license as a result of his three strikes. If he chooses to, the weasel can retrain after the five year probation period.”

“You nearly died and all he has to do is compensate you for it and he can’t work?” Hugo asked, looking directly at his daughter. “Seems like your Ministry is going easy on him.”

“They are,” Draco responded, his ire at the whole sham of a case rising to the surface, “a plea deal was entered by his solicitor. They argued that given his role in defeating the Dark Lord and his great work as an Auror his sentence should be reduced and the Wizengamot agreed. Bunch of blibbering idiots...”

“Draco,” Hermione admonished quietly, knowing that he would work himself up— again.

“It just infuriates me,” Draco replied, looking between Hermione and her parents, “I nearly lost you— and them— yet he can carry on like…”

“I know, Draco,” Hermione interrupted, placing her small hand against his cheek trying her best to soothe him.

“How are you feeling about all this, Hermione?” Maia asked in a quiet voice, recalling her daughter's conviction of her wedding day that Ron was  _ the _ person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

Moving her hand from Draco’s face to entwine with his hand, Hermione pondered her mother's question for a moment. In the build up to Ron’s trial she had been an absolute wreck, the anxiety of seeing him again with so many curious eyes watching the collapse of her marriage combined with the ache in her chest when she thought of how they used to be had almost crippled her. But, it had been in her worst moments that she had done some of her clearest thinking.

It was okay to be mourning the loss of her relationship with Ron, to allow her to move on she needed to let go of the past, nothing was going to change it now. Did she wish they had parted on better terms? Absolutely. No matter what the press speculated, Hermione hadn’t enjoyed any part of Ron’s arrest and incarceration. 

“I’ve made my peace with it,” Hermione answered honestly, leaning into Draco’s embrace as she spoke, “I wish it hadn’t happened like this but we survived and I am glad Ron didn’t get sent to Azkaban.”

“Speak for yourself,” Draco muttered darkly, holding Hermione tightly to him, it wasn’t in his nature to be as forgiving. Especially not when he had served his time and was still seen as somewhat a social pariah for the hideous brand on his forearm.

“I’m still struggling to wrap my head around everything,” Maia admitted, “we saw you that day for Ajax’s birthday and then the following morning Harry was here telling us you were in hospital… everything has moved so fast.”

“But she’s here, Maia,” Hugo spoke bracingly, giving his wife a one armed embrace and a small shake to chase away her dark thoughts. “Our Hermione is a fighter, a trait which she seems to have passed onto those grandkids of ours.”

“Oh stop it,” Maia said with a small laugh, her attention focusing back on Hermione and Draco. “I’m too young to be called Grandma! You two have aged me before my time.”

Hermione scoffed, “you had me when you were seventeen mum! Yaya probably said the exact same thing to you!” 

“Yaya?” Draco queried as Hermione, Maia and Hugo laughed.

“My mother,” Maia answered, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, “she was a very traditional woman and I got a very strong telling off when I told her I was pregnant.”

“I thought your father was going to castrate me,” Hugo added, his mouth curling into a grin as he looked at Draco, “I was considering doing the same thing to you.”

Draco gulped and hastily rearranged his legs to protect his most precious parts, “I do hope that statement will stay in the past tense,” he joked feebly as Hermione patted his leg reassuringly. 

“I’ll only make you one promise,” Hugo replied, his voice light and teasing, “it’ll be painless. I’ve got the equipment to knock you out.”

At Draco’s look of shock, Hermione burst out laughing, prompting her parents to join in with her. This is what she had missed during the dark years without them. Her parents were wonderful, free spirited people who both encouraged and guided her to make good decisions. They had always worked hard to provide for her and despite having Hermione so young, they never lost their youthful outlook. 

Any issue could be solved with a bit of thought and dedication and her father had earnt the respect of her mother's parents over time. Sitting here with her parents and Draco, Hermione hoped her parents would allow Draco to earn their respect and judging by the atmosphere this evening, they were heading in the right direction. 

With their laughter subsiding, Hermione chose to change the topic of conversation to something much lighter. “We had our eighteen week scan today.”

“Ooooh!” Maia squealed excitedly, clapping her hands together. For all of her earlier joking, she was truly excited to become a grandmother, “did you find out the sex?”

“Yes, we did,” Hermione answered, beaming as Draco passed her the most recent scan pictures. 

“Tell us!” Maia demanded, poking Hugo in the ribs as he rolled his eyes.

Hermione looked briefly to Draco and at his nod of encouragement she spoke, “we’re having a boy and a girl!”

“How exciting!” Maia enthused, getting up to embrace her daughter and Draco, “at least you won’t have any difficulty telling them apart.”

“I’m happy for you both,” Hugo added sincerely, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked at his daughter. It was hard to be disapproving when her happiness radiated out of her, accentuated only by the look in Draco’s eyes when he watched her. 

“Thank you, Mr Granger,” Draco replied, rubbing Hermione’s arm as she yawned widely, “that means a lot.”

“I’ve already told you to call me Hugo,” Hugo answered, waving away Draco’s foramility as Hermione sent a smile his way, “now, it looks like you two could do with an early night.”

“You know Ajax is going to have you up at the crack of dawn,” Maia teased, turning to refill her drink, “he loves having you stay.”

“He wakes up that early?” Draco asked, naively hoping his own children would at least wait until seven, he could deal with that.

Maia laughed, looking at Draco in an almost pitying way, “Hermione used to wake us up  _ before _ dawn, I would relish these next few months of sleep before it’s all taken away.”

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said bracingly, giving Draco a quick peck on the cheek before she turned back to her parents, “I think we will head up now, I have a feeling you’re right about Ajax and I need my sleep.”

“Sleep well, my darling girl,” Hugo said as he rose to give Hermione a hug on her way past, “and no funny business,” he added, clapping Draco on the back as he followed Hermione out.

“Hugo!” Maia scolded as she gave both Hermione and Draco another hug, “it’s not like he can get her any more pregnant than she already is.”

“Goodnight mum, dad,” Hermione said, slightly mortified as she opened the living room door and led Draco into the hallway.

“Yes, goodnight,” Draco added, following Hermione carefully, “thank you for dinner.”

“You’re very welcome,” Maia replied, her smile genuine as she watched the pair quietly climb the stairs, “sleep tight!”

With the bedroom window open and a cooling charm placed on the bed, Draco slipped under the light duvet and waited for Hermione to snuggle into him. With her head resting against his chest, Draco wrapped one arm around her back holding her close as the other worked its way up and under her nightshirt to settle against her stomach. “I think that went well,” he whispered, his fingers tracing patterns against Hermione’s skin as she shifted a leg up over his hip.

“It did,” Hermione assured him, her body relaxing against him as his touch lulled her to sleep, “I told you they’d like you.”

Pressing a kiss to her lips, Draco whispered her a goodnight before starting to drift himself. He struggled to believe that two people could be so accommodating and understanding, but that seemed to be the definition of Hugo and Maia Granger. Learning about their relationship and seeing the bond they shared still so vibrant instilled Draco with a strong sense of hope. They had endured so much and yet they still radiated so much positivity, it was astounding. If he and Hermione were half as happy as her parents, twenty plus years into the relationship— having got through hopefully the worst the world could throw at them already— Draco would count himself very lucky indeed. 

Saturday with the Grangers passed by in a blur. They visited a nearby aquarium as it was Ajax’s favourite place to visit. Once inside he wasted no time in grabbing Hermione’s hand and then surprisingly Draco’s, pulling them both towards his favourite fish. After Draco had shown the correct level of enthusiasm for the fish, Ajax proceeded to drag Draco to each tank, his exclamation of “fish!” getting louder and more excitable with each one that passed.

When Ajax’s legs had begun to tire, Draco lifted him easily and carried him around the rest of the aquarium, not realising that the little tyke had passed out on him. As Draco placed the sleeping child back in his pushchair he caught Hermione’s eye, she was positively beaming at him and Draco knew exactly what she was thinking. It was the same thought he had when watching Hermione and Ajax interact, she was going to be a brilliant parent. 

Draco was grateful when, on Sunday morning, Hermione lured Ajax out of their bedroom with the promise of pancakes so he could get a bit more sleep. Trying to keep up with the two year old for the entire day after becoming the favourite had been tiring to say the least.

Sometime later, Draco was roused again but this time by the smell of the pancakes. Evidently, Ajax had made Hermione keep her promise of pancakes for breakfast and if the noise from the kitchen were any indication, Ajax was right in the thick of it, helping. 

With a yawn and a stretch, Draco rolled out of bed and pulled on his old Qudditch t-shirt before securing the drawstring on his sleep shorts. Running a hand through his hair, Draco slowly padded down the stairs towards the source of the noise, a combination of music, laughter and voices.

“Mynee, no!” Ajax squealed in delight as Draco pushed the door open, the sight that met him stopping him in his tracks as his heart thumped unevenly. 

Hugo and Maia stood at the oven, their backs to Draco as they cooked, the pair of them taking it in turns to sing along to the music playing, using the whisk as a microphone. 

“ _ If you say run, I’ll run with you.” _

_ “And if you say hide, we’ll hide.” _ Maia sang back Hugo, her hand reaching up to ruffle his hair. It was then Draco noticed a very distinct, floury handprint on the back pocket of Maia’s jeans and he promptly flushed pink for having seen it. But it wasn’t their open flirting that stopped his heart.

It was Hermione. 

It was  _ always _ going to be Hermione that took his breath away. 

As the music carried on playing, Hugo and Maia continuing to sing back and forth to each other, Draco’s eyes zeroed in on his witch. 

_ “Because my love for you, would break my heart in two.” _

Hermione stood on the other side of the kitchen, Ajax balanced on her hip with smudges of flour on her cheeks, blowing raspberries on his cheek as he squealed and wiggled trying to get away from her. She was glowing with life and Draco realised this was all he ever wanted. 

_ “If you should fall into my arms, and tremble like a flower.” _

As she turned, smiling at him with such adoration he swore his heart stopped beating, Draco felt everything else fade away. He watched as she carefully swayed her way over to him, singing to Ajax under her voice,  _ “let’s dance, put on your red shoes and dance the blues, let’s sway, under the moonlight, this serious moonlight,” _ while Ajax giggled and squirmed against her.

Draco realised as she drew closer that if they lived together, he could have this, every morning. A home full of love and laughter. Their daughter balanced on Hermione’s hip as their son barrelled into his legs. 

“M-move in with m-me?” Draco stammered, forgetting they had an audience, seeing only Hermione and their future, “permanently?” 

The sound of the whisk clattering against the kitchen counter and Hugo and Maia’s gasps of surprise briefly jolted Draco back to reality, had he really just said that out loud? Looking up and seeing them turn away hastily, Draco felt his cheeks warm before panicking slightly at Hermione’s silence. This was going to be like the scan all over again. Draco looked quickly back at Hermione to find her smiling at him, still sashaying her way over to him, seemingly unperturbed by his outburst. 

As she reached him, Hermione took Draco’s hand and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek, still moving with Ajax as he reached for Draco. “Dance with us?” Hermione asked, smiling at the bemused look on Draco’s face as he shifted Ajax onto his hip from Hermione’s.

“I  _ don’t _ dance, Hermione,” Draco said in a low voice, his body automatically moving in time with hers as she moved him slowly. He was grateful for the distraction of dancing and as Ajax chanted, “Myneeee and Dwacooo, daaaance.”

As the song finished, the male singers voice crying out  _ “let’s dance _ ” over and over, Hugo and Maia declared that breakfast was ready. As Hermione made to relieve Draco of Ajax, Draco stopped her, securing his arm around her waist so he could speak directly into her ear. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” he offered, feeling more and more like a fool.

“It’s ok, Draco,” Hermione whispered back, moving to meet his gaze. This weekend had been eye opening, seeing Draco put so much effort into interacting with Ajax had made her realise why she was so at ease with the thought of having his children in comparison to how she felt about having Ron’s. 

Draco was making a dedicated effort to prepare himself for his impending fatherhood, something she knew anyway due to the volume of books on the subject, but seeing him with Ajax warmed her soul. He was going to be at her side, learning how to be a parent along with her. They would be a team, a partnership. Reading the uncertainty in Draco’s eyes, it came to Hermione he was giving her everything and all she gave him was uncertainty. “I was just surprised,” she continued, placing a kiss against his cheek, “it’s something we need to properly talk about, in private.”

Relief flooded him, he hadn’t pushed too hard, Hermione just wanted to have the conversation in a different setting. Which was definitely more appropriate than her parents' kitchen, Draco turned to see Hugo and Maia watching them discreetly as they served breakfast.

“Ok,” Draco agreed, moving to join Hugo and Maia for breakfast as Hermione placed Ajax in his highchair, “later.”

“Yes,” Hermione answered, sitting down next to him and squeezing his hand, “later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N — If anyone is interested, the song I have playing during breakfast with the Grangers is Lets’ Dance by David Bowie. A little while ago I was struggling with what to write next and this song came on and I just had this idea of Hugo and Maia dancing around, whilst Hermione does the same with Ajax and it just makes Draco really see their future.
> 
> I’d love to know what you guys want to see next or how you think I’m going to finish this! I’ve got it written but I’d love to see if my idea aligns with what you guys want!


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: there is a mention of miscarriage in this chapter (not Hermione) when Harry is talking to Ron, if you wish to skip over it I’ve marked the beginning and end of the conversation with a * it’s about 170 words. 
> 
> A/N: I’ve officially finished writing Sanctum! Wooo! I’m aiming to post chapter 23 next Sunday and then the final chapter on December 23rd! Alpha love as always to TriDogMom!

Sitting behind her desk in her office a few days later, Hermione looked down at the parchment she had been trying to write her report on. All the notes she had made yesterday were now viciously slashed through, nothing she wrote was coming out right.

It was incredibly frustrating. 

In front of her were various reports, scattered in a semi organised way. All she had to do was organise the facts into coherent sentences to document the changes her magic had undergone whilst living in the cave. 

Of course, thinking about the cave made her think about Draco. And thinking about Draco made her agitated. Everything had seemed so  _ simple _ in France. With a growl of frustration, Hermione threw her quill down and began pacing her office. 

She knew her feelings hadn’t changed, when Draco had placed his ring upon her finger she had felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. Her home truly was in his arms so why was it so scary to admit that now? Hermione cringed as she recalled Draco trying to discuss their living arrangements and her tactless avoidance of the subject.

Standing suddenly, Hermione walked to one side of her office, looked out the window and then turned to walk back towards her desk.

It was like there was some big stopper on her emotions. Everytime they swelled to the surface, Hermione stamped them back down. She was being irrational and she knew it.

Turning again, she made her way back to the window, lingering for a moment before spinning back again. 

Draco had admitted he loved her. There was no pressure for her to say it back and she wanted to, she  _ really _ wanted to, but the words didn’t come. Had her relationship with Ron damaged her so much she was now afraid of the commitment? Anytime she got close to telling Draco how she felt she was overcome with fear. 

The fear of losing him. The fear of being rejected by him. The fear of jumping in too deep, too quickly.  _ Fear. Fear. Fear. _

Hermione could feel her chest getting tighter, almost like it used to after her nightmares.

Draco wanted to marry her. Draco wanted to live with her,  _ forever _ . Draco wanted to call her his girlfriend. Hermione wanted to stop thinking about it.

Swinging from one emotion to the other was exhausting. She needed a distraction.

Perhaps, if she could just factually document the increase to her magical core prior to her accident, she could go to lunch with Harry, happy. That would be enough, Harry would be arriving soon to pick her up and then she could distract herself with him.

Settling herself back behind her desk, Hermione straightened her back and concentrated her mind, quill in hand, she began to write. From observing the records Healer Norton had sent over, Hermione could see the gradual rise in the power stored in her magical core, something she already knew from her regular check ups.

However, what was interesting was that these rises corresponded with Hermione swimming in the cave pool. Her own private records hadn’t been shared, at the time Hermione hadn’t really seen the need but now she wondered if her exposure to the water had been the reason for her power increase. 

Pulling forward a different sheaf of parchment, her eyes trying to avoid lingering on the house brochure Draco had sent her, Hermione shuffled through them. Looking specifically for a report written by another Unspeakable who camped at a similar ancient site. Finding it, Hermione skimmed the notes again before shoving it uncermionsily back in the stack. It was useless. There was no documented power increase.

However, what if someone closer to her had experienced a power increase? Someone like Draco or Harry? They had both been in the water with her at some point… scouring through the now unorganised stacks Hermione searched for their records. She had Harry’s records here— didn’t she? She was sure of it.

Finding Draco’s first, Hermione pulled the parchment forward and settled it next to hers. Annoyingly, Draco’s records weren’t as comprehensive as hers. His visits hadn’t been documented as no one knew he was visiting so frequently.

However, Hermione could see that in comparison to his first visit back in January, his power had increased. His most recent record being after her accident. Needing to compare Draco’s results to Harry’s, Hermione continued digging through the paperwork, finally settling on the piece titled Harry James Potter. Scanning the document quickly, Hermione found no power increase in Harry.

Which begged the question, why were she and Draco the only ones affected?

Could it be something to do with Lofn? Draco had been the first one to visit the cave with her and on that first visit she had shared the details of her separation from Ron. Not that she was one to believe in ancient beings but unable to think of any other reason why they were affected, Hermione decided to give it some more thought. 

She obviously had a bond with Draco, one that was only getting stronger. Could their bond of friendship have sparked an ancient magic? Narcissa said Lofn was the goddess of forbidden love, had Draco been in love with her all that time ago? It couldn’t be that… Draco would have said something sooner wouldn’t he?

As Hermione pondered the question, she recalled Draco’s statement when she had been looking at her divorce papers,  _ “I’m not sorry for a damn thing. I’m  _ glad _ we slept together. If we hadn’t, you would be back with Ron, I would still be whining to Blaise about my crush on you…” _

Draco had a crush on her when they slept together— which made sense— Draco wasn’t the type of person to just sleep around. Then, neither was she… what if she had also been  _ crushing _ on Draco? Would that be enough of a bond to incite an ancient magic? Had they,  _ maybe, _ received a blessing from the goddess without asking for one?

Hearing a knock upon her door, Hermione got up from her seat and gently stretched out the tension in her lower back before opening it, finding herself face to face with a bespectacled Harry.  __

“Happy birthday!” Hermione shouted, pulling the birthday boy into her office and throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thanks,” Harry said grinning as he returned Hermione’s hug, “you hungry?”

“Always,” Hermione laughed, turning away so she could grab a light jacket and her bag before walking out of the office arm in arm with Harry.

Linking his arm through hers, Harry cast a quick notice me not charm as they walked through the Ministry. He was hounded almost everyday by the press but they always seemed particularly invasive on his birthday and this allowed them to walk through the Ministry and out onto the street uninterrupted.

“Are you having a good day?” Hermione asked, smiling as they strolled down the busy London street, “what did Ginny get you?”

“I’m having the  _ best _ day,” Harry replied, grinning madly as he threw up a wandless non-verbal  _ Muffliato _ charm around the pair of them. He was simply bursting with excitement and couldn’t stand to hold the words in any longer. “Ginny’s pregnant.” 

“What!” Hermione shrieked, stopping mid step and turning to face her best friend. “Harry James Potter,” she continued, thwacking him good naturedly on the chest, “ _ why _ did you not tell me this straight away? This is brilliant news!” 

Laughing Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione and turned her back in the direction they were travelling. “I didn’t want to do it in the Ministry where people would see you accosting me,” he joked easily. After all those months and months of trying, he and Ginny were  _ finally _ going to have a child.

“Tell me everything,” Hermione enthused, squeezing Harry round the middle as they walked easily together. “How far along is she? Have you had your scan yet? Do you know what you want?”

“Blimey, Hermione,” Harry laughed again, “do I get an outstanding for answering all these questions correctly?”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione grinned, turning to look up at Harry, “I’m just so happy for you two.”

“I know,” Harry agreed easily, opening the door for Hermione and leading her to  _ their _ table. “Ginny is about eight weeks along so we haven’t had scans yet and I don’t know what I want. I just want a healthy baby and a happy wife.”

Settling herself into the chair, Hermione looked at Harry’s bemused face. He was going to be a dad! “How did Ginny tell you”?

Harry smiled at the memory, it was one he would cherish forever. “She woke me up with breakfast in bed, we ate, then she told me she had my present and did the charm… it took me a few minutes to get what she was saying.”

“Sounds perfect,” Hermione said, her hand straying to her own bump and rubbing small circles across the taut surface.

“How about you?” Harry asked, browsing through the menu even though he’d most likely have his usual. “How are you and Draco? How are the babies? I honestly can’t think when I last saw you this happy.”

Rubbing her hand across the swell of her stomach, Hermione smiled at Harry, if only he knew. “I am happy,” Hermione answered gently, her anxieties dancing on the tip of her tongue, “the babies are growing, Draco is wonderful…” 

Sensing there was something troubling Hermione, Harry cast a discreet  _ Muffliato _ around their table before asking, “what are you thinking? Right now?”

Hermione went to open her mouth before snapping it shut again, it was Harry’s birthday, she didn’t want to dump her problems onto him.

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know,” Harry cajoled.

Drawing in a deep breath Hermione looked at Harry’s face before answering him slowly, “that things are moving so fast I can’t keep up with them. I’m in a new relationship and barely any time has passed since Ron and I separated, we’re going to go from whatever Draco and I are to mum and dad very quickly…”

“And that’s scaring you?”

“More than I care to admit.”

“You know,” Harry said with a small smile, “someone once told me fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself.”

Inadvertently, Hermione laughed, smiling back at Harry as he repeated her own words back at her.

“You are,” Harry continued, reaching out to take Hermione’s free hand, “one of the strongest women I know. Why are you letting this block you?”

Hermione considered Harry’s words for a moment, why was she letting it block her? Being with Draco in France had been blissfully perfect, but something had changed coming home. Maybe it was because she hadn’t truly gone home? Draco was extremely reluctant to let her go to the cave and she had chosen not to return to her marital home, fearing the memories left behind.

Everything she had before her accident was no longer hers. The marital home which had once been full of happy memories was just a shell, being sold so the funds could be equally split between herself and Ron. The cave, which she found sanctuary in during such a difficult period wouldn’t be her home for much longer and she didn’t even have her magic.

“Draco wants me to move in with him.” Hermione mumbled.

“Don’t you already live with him?” Harry asked, confused.

“True,” Hermione sighed, sipping on her drink before answering Harry. “Draco wants to buy a bigger house straight away, but not just a three or four bed. No, he wants to buy something with guest bedrooms and a flipping ballroom. We don’t  _ need _ something that big and I want to contribute towards it, which he won’t even discuss.”

“You know he’s got the money Hermione.”

“It’s not about the money Harry,” Hermione said with a grumble, “I need something that is  _ mine _ . If Draco buys a house and I live there, I’m like a kept woman!  _ And _ , he gets this look in his eye when he’s talking about the extra rooms like he expects to fill them with more kids. I wasn’t even planning on kids yet and I’d just like to settle into being a family before the thought of more even  _ crosses _ my mind.”

“Hermione, I think he’s been in love with you for longer than you realise. Why is it so bad he’s future proofing?”

“I just want to get through these next few months and let our relationship develop naturally,” Hermione sighed, “it’s all moved so fast. We should be casually dating, not planning for the arrival of children in a few months.”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Harry began, taking Hermione’s hand, “our lives have never been simple. Do you trust Draco?”

“Of course I do,” Hermione scoffed.

“Then trust his motive,” Harry said with a smile, “you’ve got to remember that his idea of reality isn’t going to match yours. You’ve seen the size of the manor, you know what he’s used to, he probably thinks he’s chosen houses that are more than reasonable. Even though to us they seem oversized.”

“How’d you get to be so smart?”

“I learnt from the best,” Harry answered with a warm smile and a squeeze of the hand.

*

Sitting in the garden of Grimmauld Place, Draco looked at all the people bought together that Saturday to celebrate Harry’s birthday. In the past few hours he had seen all of the Weasleys, their spouses and their children; the majority of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Aunt Andromeda with Teddy as well as Longbottom and Lovegood. Draco had lost count of how many congratulations they had received and was still slightly bemused by the amount of kindness they had received. 

Draco knew Hermione was adored by the Wealseys as well as all her friends and that kindness had passed to him when Hermione first started bringing Draco along to these gatherings all those years ago. But, given their situation Draco hadn’t expected that kindness to linger. 

Looking to Hermione, Draco felt his heart swell. They sat together on Harry’s swing chair towards the back of the garden, Hermione’s legs were up over his lap as her back rested against the arm of the chair, supported by copious amounts of cushions to make it more comfortable. As the afternoon had turned to evening, Hermione had gotten cold and asked to wear his jumper. Draco had happily obliged and charmed it so it fit over her over growing stomach. 

“I can tell you’re looking at me,” Hermione whispered, her eyes shut and a small smile on her face as Draco continued rubbing his hand up and down her leg.

“You’re hard to resist in my house colours,” Draco whispered back, his hand creeping up and under the hem of the jumper to rest on her warm skin. His thumb rubbed small circles as his fingers crept out to touch as much skin as possible, hoping that he’d feel some of the movement Hermione had been experiencing this past week.

“That feels good,” Hermione sighed as Draco continued caressing her sides, not caring for a moment that anyone might see.

“Are they moving?” Draco asked, moving himself closer to Hermione so he could nuzzle his nose against hers.

“Not really,” Hermione answered softly, “I think they’re sleeping.”

Doing his best to ignore the disappointment that flooded his veins, he knew it was still too early for him to feel the movement but he hoped they would react in some way to his touch. Much like how Hermione always seemed to softly sigh and relax into his embrace. 

“Should we head home soon?” Draco asked, knowing that usually once Hermione got sleepy, there was no waking her back up.

“Can we stay for a bit longer?” Hermione asked, cracking one eye open to look up at Draco, “it’s nice to be here with everyone.”

“Of course,” Draco agreed easily, placing a kiss against Hermione’s forehead as she closed her eyes once more. 

Pressing his foot to the floor, Draco began slowly rocking the swing back and forth, enjoying the fresh summer evening. It had been a surprisingly easy way to spend the majority of the day, the rest of the party goers were gathered in loose groups forming a slight circle around the fire pit as it crackled merrily, exchanging small talk and sharing drinks. There was a beautiful simplicity to the evening and Draco felt his chest fill with an optimism he hadn’t had for a while. For once, Draco felt like he was close to achieving a dream which had only come to the forefront of his mind recently. 

Hermione was carrying his children and ready to pack up her life and move onto the next phase of it with him,  _ him _ . It was easy to get lost in the day dream of their future; the two solid forms he could feel beneath his palm would grow, start to walk, start to talk and he and Hermione would nurture them together. Then, maybe one day, they’d have another child,  _ a planned one _ , and they would both get to embrace the changes, be excited as they reached each milestone. 

That would be certainly preferable to every milestone they currently experienced being overshadowed by something outside of their control. So far, Draco couldn’t recall both of them being truly happy about any major pregnancy event. Even that glorious moment of finding out he was the expectant father was tainted by the memory of  _ why _ Hermione had been in the hospital in the first place. 

Hopefully, they would be able to enjoy the rest of the pregnancy in relative peace because Draco was sure these last few months would be the last peace he would get for the next few years.

Opening her eyes a little while later, Hermione smiled at Draco as she tried to sit herself upright, gratefully taking Draco’s offered hand so he could pull her most of the way up. Swinging her legs to the ground, Hermione rose a little unsteadily from the seat before placing a kiss on Draco’s cheek with a murmur of “bathroom,” before she turned and walked away. 

Making her way past Neville and Luna, Hermione smiled to herself, being here with all her friends made her realise how truly lucky she was. After everything they had endured during their childhood here they were, mostly whole and moving on with their lives.

Turning into the courtyard which led to the rear of Grimmauld Place, Hermione’s mind was full of happy thoughts until the squeak of a door and a mumble of “bloody hell,” turned her attention to the man now blocking her path. 

“Ron,” Hermione breathed, stunned into a silence as she looked into his all too familiar blue eyes. What exactly was the protocol for seeing your ex-husband face to face for the first time after he nearly killed you? She hadn’t directly spoken with him since his request of divorce, in this very house, all communication since that point had always been done through the solicitor.

“Hermione,” Ron replied, his voice strained as he took in her appearance. She almost could have still been the same girl he fell in love with—  _ almost _ . It was like looking into the future he’d hoped for with Hermione but the picture had become distorted. Her trademark curls had been cut, the smile usually reserved for him had vanished and her clothing choice represented her betrayal. 

Instead of being decked in their house colours she was in green, with the bastard's name and house crest emblazoned across her breast. Ron felt frozen. A dozen different scenarios played out in his mind to get him out and away from this situation but he was stuck, fixated on the alien-like roundness of her stomach. 

It could have all so easily been him, it should have been him. As his thoughts began to spiral, Ron groaned internally, Hermione was still staring at him, he’d hoped by turning up late he could avoid seeing her. Ron had no doubt the ferret was out in the garden, socialising with his friends. 

All he wanted to do was wish Harry and happy birthday and be gone. The week had been rough, but he’d wanted to do right by his friend and now that was going to go to shit.

“Ron, I,” Hermione began, starting to move forward and reach out to him. She could tell he was struggling and despite everything she felt she needed to comfort him and try to explain. There was a glimmer of nostalgia as she looked at him, reminding her of the boy she’d first met on the train. It was then she realised she’d never got the opportunity to explain that they’d fallen out of love with each other, she’d never been able to give her side without some form of argument erupting.

“Don’t, Hermione,” Ron said, jerking away, he couldn’t bear for her to touch him. Not when her hands had been all over Malfoy and his hands all over her.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione uttered, looking up to the stars as she tried to control her raging hormones. She could feel tears pooling in her eyes as the strangeness of the situation washed over her, nothing had prepared her for seeing him so suddenly and it bought back all of the confusion she’d worked so hard to let go of.

“Sorry?” Ron questioned, looking directly at her and ignoring the laughter coming from the garden. 

“Yes, I’m sorry Ron,” Hermione continued, oblivious to the sound of approaching footsteps, “things should have never gotten this messy.”

“All you had to do was agree to have a baby with me,” Ron stated, unsure why the words had even crossed his lips. He was tired of arguing with her, he was tired of all of it.

“All I had to do?” Hermione replied, her head snapping forward as she turned her attention back to him. Suddenly seeing the man Ron had turned into instead of the boy she grew up with. Were they really going to have the same conversation, again? “You wanted me to give up my career, my  _ life _ to give you a child Ron.”

“You don’t seem to mind doing it for  _ him _ ,” Ron said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at her. Knowing he was pushing her buttons but unable to stop himself, everything Hermione said had a way of getting under his skin. 

“You think I planned to be having Draco’s children instead of yours?” Hermione asked, disbelief making her voice pitch a note too high. Perhaps she’d been wrong to try and engage with Ron, she should have just turned back to the garden as soon as she’d seen him, Draco would have taken her home...

“I don’t think you planned it,” Ron replied, his temper starting to rise to the surface, “but I also don’t think you care that it’s happened.”

“You  _ know _ I wanted to wait!” Hermione cried, her foot stomping in frustration. It was always the same bloody argument. They weren’t even together anymore and here he was pushing her, prodding her. “I didn’t want Draco’s children anymore than I wanted yours!  _ I wanted to wait _ , but things happened. Things beyond my cont—”

“You don’t want our children?” 

Gasping, Hermione wrenched her gaze from Ron and turned towards Draco’s voice. He had heard her declaration. Draco had heard and was just standing there… staring at her… waiting for something. 

“Draco, that’s not what I meant…” Hermione began, willing Draco to understand. She could feel her hands starting to shake as she stood between her past and her future.

“Pretty hard to hear that any other way, Granger,” Draco retorted, cringing internally as Hermione recoiled from his use of her last name. 

Watching in a slow kind of horror as Draco whipped his wand from his sleeve, Hermione thought _ he’s going to leave. Draco can’t leave. _ “Draco!” Hermione all but shouted, stumbling forward desperately to try and stop him vanishing into thin air, “wait, ple—”

“All I’ve done is  _ wait _ for you,” Draco replied numbly, unsure of how to handle the riot of emotions that were currently coursing through his body, “and I’m not sure I can do it anymore.”

“No, Draco, don’t go. Please.” Hermione begged, tears falling in earnest as Draco gripped his wand tightly, his face a storm of emotions before he vanished into thin air with a telling ‘pop’. 

“No,” Hermione mumbled, stumbling forward as her hand groped the empty air where Draco had just stood, “no, no,  _ no _ .” This couldn’t be happening. Draco can’t have just left, Draco didn’t leave. What was it with this house and people leaving her? 

Numb with shock, Hermione turned and looked around the courtyard, searching for something—  _ anything _ — to anchor her to the here and now. Where she would have once found comfort in Ron’s face she saw none, he was watching her in an almost detached way and the age old feeling of helplessness rose up within her and flooded her system.

_ Draco’s gone, I have to find him. I need to find him… need to make him see. Where would he go? Blaise is too far… Daphne has Theo… his cottage? Maybe? I need to get to his cottage... _

Struggling to draw in a deep breath, Hermione stumbled backwards, her hand coming up to claw at her throat as her back hit the brick wall of the courtyard. _ I don’t have my magic… I can’t go to him… I’m stuck. _

Feeling her legs start to shake and her ears start to ring, Hermione tried in vain to control her breathing. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Ron start to step toward her before his eyes flicked to the left of them where footsteps could be heard approaching. 

Harry, having heard the pop of apparition and noticing that Hermione and Draco were yet to return to the garden, had decided to see what was taking them so long. Seeing Hermione clutching at her neck and bump as Ron stood mere feet away from her made a strange sensation settle in Harry’s chest, moving toward Hermione he pulled her hand from her neck and held it tightly, “you ok?”

“Harry,” Hermione breathed, struggling to contain her panic, “I… Draco. He heard us arguing, I said…  _ shit _ ... He heard. I’ve got to find him Harry.”

“Everything ok here?” Ginny asked, joining the trio in the courtyard.

“Ginny,” Harry said, “can you take Hermione inside? She needs to calm down.”

“I need to explain to Draco—”

“Hermione, please. Just, go inside. Stressing about whatever this is, isn’t good for the babies and I will find Draco in a minute.”

As soon as Ginny and Hermione went into the house, he turned to Ron.

“What happened? I was expecting you to turn up hours ago” Harry asked, his tone weary as he found himself once again stuck between Ron and Hermione.

Ron gripped the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension creeping in. All he wanted to do was drop in and wish Harry a happy birthday before going home and trying to deal with the events of the week.

“I didn’t mean to start anything,” Ron said slowly, trying to sort out his thoughts, “I floo’d over hoping to just drop in but we bumped into each other. She started trying to explain and I just can’t— there’s too much going on.”

***** Noticing Ron’s sad demeanor Harry asked, “what’s going on, Ron?”

Heaving a sigh, Ron moved his hand to rub it across his face before looking back at Harry, “Lavender had her three month scan earlier in the week… she miscarried. It’s quite common apparently but Lavender is beside herself, she blames Hermione and the stress of the trial.”

“Mate, I’m sorry.”

“Yea, me too. I just can’t… you know… deal with all of this. I’ve still got the emotional range of a teaspoon, nothing I do or say comes out right. I didn’t mean to pick a fight, just seeing her, like  _ that _ , bought it all back.”

Silence settled between the two friends, Harry unsure what he could say and Ron not sure how to go forward. “Look, I’m just going to head back, I said I wouldn’t be long. Just, happy birthday yea?”

“Thanks, I appreciate you making the effort, you didn’t have to given… I really am sorry Ron.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ron mumbled, before disapparating with a pop.

***** Drawing in a deep breath, Harry moved towards the living room where he could hear Ginny and Hermione quietly conversing.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, jumping up as soon as she saw him, “I need to find Draco, can you take me to his? Please?”

Shutting the door behind him, Harry leaned back on it before looking between Hermione and Ginny. “No,” he stated simply, watching as Hermione’s jaw dropped open.

“Why on earth not?” Hermione asked flabbergasted, Harry never said no to her.

“After all the shit you two have been through for Draco to just leave, you must have really hurt him,” Harry began, taking his glasses from his face and cleaning the lenses with his t-shirt. “If I help you track him down, you’re not going to have any time to reflect on it. You need to see this from his side Hermione, I can imagine exactly what you and Ron were arguing about and given how Draco feels about you…”

“Harry’s got a point, Hermione,” Ginny said softly, pulling on Hermione’s hand so she dropped into the seat beside her. “That man has been head over heels in love with you for a very long time, have you even told him how you feel?”

“No,” Hermione mumbled, her bottom lip trembling. She felt completely and utterly helpless.

“Look,” Harry said, making Hermione turn her attention back to him, “I will go and find Draco but I’m telling him you’re staying here so you can spend the night thinking about him and come up with a decent apology for tomorrow. If he chooses to come here then fine, but I’m not taking you to him.”

“Ok,” Hermione whispered, feeling admonished by Harry’s stern words. He was right though, all she had been doing was taking from Draco and he deserved so much better than that.

With that, Harry disappeared leaving Hermione and Ginny alone.

“I’m sorry Gin,” Hermione whispered, wiping beneath her eyes with the sleeve of Draco’s jumper.

“For what?” Ginny asked, perplexed.

“I feel like I’ve ruined Harry’s party,” Hermione mumbled, chastising herself for getting so worked up with Ron, “and I haven’t even congratulated you yet.”

Laughing a little, Ginny wrapped her arms around as much of Hermione as she could and pulled her in tightly, “don’t be so silly, no one else has probably even noticed and thank you. Are you ready to be Aunt Hermione?”

Allowing Ginny’s warmth to seep into her bones, Hermione giggled her way through a sniff, “I’m not even sure who I am anymore.”

“Nonsense,” Ginny spoke firmly, squeezing Hermione tighter to her, “you’re Hermione Granger. You stand up for what you believe in, you’re fiercely loyal to those you love and best of all? You’re a human who is  _ allowed _ to make mistakes, you don’t have to spend the rest of your life trying to atone for them.”

As Hermione sat quietly, absorbing Ginny’s words, Ginny rose from the chair mentioning something about making tea. When she returned, Ginny plonked herself on the seat opposite Hermione and levitated her tea over to her.

“Want to tell me what’s up with you and Draco?” Ginny asked quietly, knowing Harry had returned from seeing Draco and was now out in the garden with their friends. “I could tell something had shifted before all this,” Ginny added, waving her hand in the air, clearly unsure how exactly to define the last few months.

“It’s just… I,” Hermione began, speaking to Ginny with her hands wrapped around the warm mug of tea, “it’s… the night we slept together was so…  _ intense _ and I was so confused after I sent Draco home. I think I felt something for him then and it scared the shit out of me.”

“And…” Ginny prodded gently, sensing she was about to get Hermione to finally open up.

“Those feelings have grown,” Hermione whispered, unable to take her eyes off the steaming tea. “I… I think I’m in love with him and now he’s gone, I’ve… I’ve messed everything up.”

Ginny stood hastily and moved to embrace Hermione as her tears fell. “Hey now,” Ginny murmured, rubbing her hand up and down Hermione’s back to soothe her crying, “he’ll come back, Harry said he just needs some space.”

“I pushed him away,” Hermione cried, now she had let her feelings overwhelm her, she couldn’t stop the flood that followed, “I let my fear control me… I should have told him how I feel, showed him how much I appreciated everything he’s done for me…”

“Calm down,” Ginny instructed, pulling Hermione’s chin up so she could stare her straight in the eye, “you’re talking like he’s never going to come back. He’s not Ron. Draco will listen to you, you just need to be honest with him.”

“Honest,” Hermione repeated, feeling some of her courage return, “I think I can do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know some of you may not like how this chapter ended but stick with me! I promise this is HEA— we just needed to shake Hermione up!


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: And here we have it— the penultimate chapter! Thank you all for sticking with me throughout this, it’s been a long time! I’ve adored seeing all your comments & kudos as each chapter has been posted.
> 
> Alpha love as always to TriDogMom — you really are the best!!

When Hermione awoke the following morning at Harry’s, she was filled with a determination to set things right with Draco. Part of her had hoped he’d appear in the night and she’d wake up safely ensconced in his embrace but in the cold light of day Hermione knew she needed to go to him. Wherever he might be. 

Changing out of Ginny’s altered pyjamas and into the clothes she was wearing the night before, Hermione made her way downstairs, finding both Harry and Ginny at the table eating breakfast. “Morning,” she greeted, settling herself into the seat beside Ginny.

“Morning,” Harry replied, offering her some tea and toast.

“No, thank you,” Hermione answered, pushing the plate back towards Harry. Her stomach felt sick with nerves but she wasn’t going to let that slow her down, “do you know where Draco is?”

“I may have managed to track his magical signature,” Harry replied with a weary smile, “he wasn’t at the cottage when I floo’d this morning.”

“Where is he?” Hermione asked.

“You’ll see,” Harry answered, rising from his seat and pecking Ginny on the cheek, “I’ll be back soon.”

“You better be,” Ginny said with a smile, “we’ve still got more of your birthday to celebrate.”

Appearing in the woods just outside of her cave, Hermione turned to Harry with a look of confusion, “Draco’s here?” she asked, trying to ignore the spinning sensation in her head and the odd pressure around her body. 

“This is where his signature shows up,” Harry replied, gesturing for Hermione to lead the way to her home.

As she approached the concealed entrance, butterflies began to riot in her stomach, making her feel nauseous. Reaching out, Hermione placed a hand on the cool rock, closed her eyes and drew in a deep, steadying breath. Feeling a pulse of magic against her palm, Hermione opened her eyes, reminding herself that she needed to tell Draco exactly how she felt, hold nothing back, put herself absolutely on the line as he had done for her.

There should be nothing scary about talking to Draco.

Silence met her as she walked from the entrance corridor and into her living room. Looking around Hermione remembered her last night in her cave, sharing dinner with Daphne, reading in her favourite chair, deciding to go for a swim, that blinding white hot pain…

Rubbing the spot on her chest, Hermione imagined she could feel the burn again, realising as she did so that something about the cave was making her feel a little unsteady. Turning, Hermione looked back at Harry before looking around for signs of Draco, wondering as she did so if maybe she should ask Harry to take her home? 

She wanted to see Draco,  _ needed _ to see him, but as she looked around Hermione felt her head throb and her heart drop, he wasn’t there. When Harry had said Draco was in the cave, Hermione had assumed he’d be in the living room, pacing or something similar.

“He has to be here,” Harry said, correctly reading the empty look on Hermione’s face, “the signature trace is never wrong.”

Agreeing with a nod, Hermione turned away from Harry and headed towards her bedroom, checking the kitchen and the bathroom along the way. Finding them empty, Hermione walked back towards Harry where he was packing a box full of books. Running her fingers along the spines, Hermione froze, her eyes finding the lone figure of Draco sat along the shore line below.

Feeling her heart skip a beat, Hermione spun on her heel, ignoring how the room seemed to keep spinning as she walked eagerly towards the door to the stairs, “Harry! He’s here! I’m going down to speak to him.”

Harry followed Hermione out of the door and onto the ledge, placing a quick charm on Hermione’s retreating form to make sure she didn’t slip. Despite not being the one to have found her that day, Harry could all too clearly see her falling down these very steps and did not want a live reenactment. 

Pausing about half way down, Hermione drew in a shaky breath to steady her racing heart.

“Hermione!” Draco yelped, turning and scrambling up from the sand, kicking it out behind him as he hurried over to her, “what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” After speaking to Harry last night at his cottage, he had felt the overwhelming urge to go back to the cave, but he’d lost track of time, caught up in the memories the cave bought and hadn’t returned to the cottage.

“I came to talk to you,” Hermione answered, a little uncertain as Draco reached her and took both of her hands in his own.

“I meant what the hell do you think you’re doing coming down here,” Draco added, trying to calm his panic as he spied Harry at the top of the stairs, his wand trained on Hermione’s back.

“I’m perfectly capable of walking down some stairs,” Hermione retorted, allowing Draco to escort her down the rest of the stairs.

“I know,” Draco sighed, relaxing as they finally reached the sand. Looking up quickly, he gave a nod of thanks to Harry and watched him disappear before turning his attention back to Hermione. “I just… I saw you bloodied at the bottom of these stairs before and I don’t fancy seeing it again.”

Hermione paused, looking between the stairs and the spot she imagined Draco had found her in. “Have you been here all night?” she asked hesitantly, doing her best to ignore the queasiness in her stomach.

“Yeah,” Draco replied, giving her hands a slight squeeze as he drew in a deep breath, “I needed to be back here. I needed to see where our journey began.”

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Hermione said, moving forward to try and embrace him as Draco took a step back. “Draco?”

“I know you’re sorry,” Draco breathed, silently battling with himself. He knew the words she said were in the heat of the moment between her and Ron but it didn’t take the sting away. After everything they had endured together, after everything he had given her, she was still hung up on her same old issues. “But I need more than words, Hermione.” 

As Hermione stared at him silently, Draco pressed on, needing to get everything out. “I’ve given you  _ everything _ ,” he said, his eyes boring into hers with the intensity of his feelings, “I’ve laid my  _ entire _ world at your feet and you’ve taken all of it. I don’t regret a single moment of it, but hearing you tell the weasel you didn’t want our children… that fucking stung, Hermione.”

“I know,” Hermione answered, her voice wavering as she felt his pain, “I’ve been so selfish. I’ve spent so much time thinking about how this affects me and  _ my life.  _ I've taken yours for granted. I need you to know Draco, what I said last night, it wasn’t meant like that… that was old Hermione stuck in the same old argument with Ron.” 

“You can’t be two different people, Hermione,” Draco sighed, part of him wanted to stop the conversation, accept her apology and go back to how they were. But, he knew if they didn’t talk about all of this now, they never would. He would always be watching for signs she was going to bolt. “This is what happens. You need to decide who you are and what you want, once and for all.”

Hermione paused, allowing Draco’s words to sink in. He was right, he was always bloody right. She couldn’t continue like this, the constant battle between who she used to be and who she was now.  What was it she and Harry had been discussing the other day... how nothing felt like it was hers anymore? How she needed to trust Draco?

She could throw herself head first into their relationship, trust Draco with everything, share every fear and every insecurity. And Draco? Draco could be hers. Hermione knew Draco would be hers if she asked.

Sucking a deep breath and drawing all the courage she had, Hermione whispered those fateful words, "I'll marry you, Draco."

Inhaling a sharp breath, Draco stared at her. Oh how he'd longed to hear her say those words. Pulling her in closely, Draco kissed her, a slow sweet kiss before running his nose along hers as he whispered, "no, you won't."

Hermione spluttered, terrified she had ruined everything. "What? Why? I want to be with you Draco, I want to be yours."

"I want you to want to marry me because you are so head over heels in love with me, you can't stand to be without me," Draco murmured, breathing her scent in before he stepped back to look deeply into her eyes. "I won't marry you as a knee jerk reaction after a misunderstanding."

"This isn't a knee jerk reaction Dra—"

"Yes," Draco said calmly, "it is. I can see the fear in you. Your thoughts were spiraling and that's where you ended up. Your entire body stiffened when you said it. I love you, but I won’t marry you like this."

“Then tell me what to do,” Hermione begged, leaning into Draco’s touch as he wiped a tear from her cheek, “I can’t lose you.”

“Who said I was leaving?” Draco asked, holding her face in both of his hands, “I always knew this was going to be difficult. I’m not going anywhere, I guess I just need to know you’re not going anywhere either.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hermione assured him quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. “I realised last night that I need to be honest with you. I pushed you away after we slept together because I felt something for you and it scared me to death.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t supposed to have those feelings for anyone but Ron,” Hermione answered, her eyes drifting over to the water's edge where gold shimmered in the pool, “let alone feel something stronger. If we’d gone to bed, the connection we have would have consumed me in its intensity. I wouldn’t have been the same person after… and that scared me. It still does.”

“Do you know what I did after you sent me away?” Draco asked, continuing when Hermione nibbled her lip and shook her head, “I broke down. Right out there, in the trees. It felt  _ wrong _ to walk away from you but I respected your decision, praying to Merlin you’d change your mind.”

“I felt it too,” Hermione whispered, her body trembling as she gripped his shirt, “I cried the whole night. Looking back on it now, I realise I should have taken the time to understand those feelings, learn why they were so strong when it came to you. I was so insecure with Ron and sometimes, when I’m stressed those old insecurities creep back in. That’s all that argument was, I promise.”

“What do you feel now, Hermione?” Draco asked, his voice rough. He could feel his magic pulsing through his veins, trying to reach out to her and make her his.

“I feel…” Hermione paused, using the time to reflect on what she did truly feel. She was teetering on the edge of a realisation, Draco was still here, he hadn’t run and was listening just like Ginny said he would. Her heart was pounding as she looked into his cool grey eyes, the air around them seeming to ebb and flow with each of her breaths, she felt… complete. 

For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt like the woman she was always destined to be. Draco was her partner, her equal in everything. Her relationship with Ron had always felt one sided and that was part of the reason she was hesitant to start a family with him.

But here Draco was, constantly catching her when she fell. He caught her when she felt alone and afraid, he held her together when her marriage started to disintegrate and right now he was waiting for her to catch him.

Hermione had no doubt Draco would be there for her in her worst days but she wanted him there on her best. She needed him to be with her in a way no one had before. It was his face she saw when she closed her eyes, his touch she felt when she sought out comfort and his love which brought her back to life.

“I love you,” Hermione said, her voice strong and clear, “I love you, Draco Malfoy.”

Relief washed over him, Hermione had been silent for so long he thought he’d lost her, “say it again,” Draco demanded.

“I… love… you,” Hermione repeated, kissing his lips between each word. Saying those words to him cemented something deep inside her, tying her firmly to Draco.

“Finally,” Draco breathed, pulling her closer and tangling his hands up into her hair. Titling her face up to meet his, Draco crashed his lips against hers, pouring every ounce of love he had for her into the kiss.

Hermione sagged a little into Draco’s embrace as he controlled the kiss, in an attempt to help steady herself she looped her arms up and around his neck, her fingers tugging at the short hair at the base of his neck. Kissing Draco again was like a breath of fresh air, tasting him, touching him, feeling him shudder as she nibbled his lip ignited her soul.

Pulling away a moment later, breathless, Hermione smiled up at Draco, “I do have one more thing to ask you.”

“Ask away,” Draco smiled.

“Can I move in with you?” 

“Isn’t that why we’re here?” Draco asked, confused by Hermione’s question.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “but I want to  _ live _ with you, not just stay with you.”

“Can I buy us a house?” Draco queried, his eyebrow quirked as Hermione smirked back at him.

“That depends,” Hermione replied, sliding her hands down Draco’s arms so she could hold both of his hands, “can we choose one together? A  _ normal _ sized house to suit the family we’re going to have?”

“Absolutely,” Draco readily agreed, shocked at where the conversation had ended up. He had been up all night, thinking of Hermione and trying to understand her, half afraid she would walk away from him for good. 

“We best get packing then,” Hermione said, nodding towards the windows of her living room. Without another word, Draco took Hermione’s hand and carefully led her back up the stairs. 

Hours later and surrounded by boxes, Hermione stifled a yawn behind her hand. Without Draco’s presence last night she had slept terribly and packing without the aid of magic had wiped out any remaining energy she had.

“Why don’t you go lie down?” Draco asked, having caught her yawning for the fifth time in ten minutes.

“I’ll be ok,” Hermione replied softly, “we’re nearly done.”

“Exactly,” Draco answered, “go lie down, I’ll join you in a few minutes when I’m done.”

As Hermione opened her mouth to protest another yawn escaped. “Go,” Draco said firmly, sealing up one box with magic before moving onto the next, “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Fine,” Hermione agreed with a roll of her eyes and a smile on her face.

Waking a few hours later, Hermione yawned and stretched back into Draco’s warm embrace, the twins stirring as she did so. She couldn’t remember him coming to bed but she was so relieved to be waking up in his arms. There was a feeling of completeness in Hermione’s soul as she laid entwined in his arms, for the first time in a long time she felt like she was home.

It felt as if everything had come full circle. When she had first entered this cave at the start of the year, her marriage was slowly crumbling and now, almost eight months later, she was preparing to leave it and start her life over again. With Draco’s arm holding her tightly, Hermione could feel the strength she had been missing return to her.

It was like taking the first breath of fresh air after being trapped inside, committing herself fully to Draco had truly set her free. Looking out of her bedroom window and across to the waterfall, Hermione said a silent thank you to whichever force brought her to her cave.

Snuggling herself further into Draco’s embrace, Hermione took their linked hands and rested them against the swell of her stomach, rubbing absent minded circles where she could feel movement. Now she had become accustomed to feeling the twins move around inside of her, Hermione found she loved the feeling, having the constant reassurance that they were there and healthy. 

Feeling a particularly hard kick, Hermione began to wonder if Draco would be able to feel it too. It was probably still a bit too early, but having never felt kicks so strong Hermione decided to risk it and wake Draco.

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice and wake him gently, “Draco, wake up.”

Draco groaned as he buried his face into her hair, “Hermioneeeee, ssshhh,” before wedging his face very firmly between the pillow and her shoulder. 

“Dracoooo, come on,” Hermione whispered back as he buried his face further into the pillow, “for god sake,” she muttered, moving Draco’s hand and pressing it where she felt the last kick. Patiently waiting for it to happen again so Draco would realise what was going on. 

“Stop flicking me woman,” Draco complained as he tried to move his hand away, causing Hermione to push it harder against her stomach.

“It’s not me,” Hermione replied gently, waiting for Draco to react.

Feeling another thump against his palm as Hermione’s words sunk through his sleep haze, Draco’s eyes popped open and he wrenched his face out of his nook, “is that… is that… kicking?!” he exclaimed suddenly making Hermione laugh.

“Yes,” Hermione said with a giggle, watching Draco’s sleepy face light up with excitement, “I think someone wanted to say hello.”

Now wide awake Draco pulled away gently from Hermione so she could lie on her back. Propping his head up with one hand, he rubbed his other hand against Hermione’s stomach gently waiting for the next kick. “Come on little ones,” Draco murmured, lowering his face to speak to Hermione’s stomach, “one more kick for daddy.” Sure enough, Draco felt another kick against his hand, making his heart skip a beat, “thank you,” he whispered, leaning down to plant a kiss on Hermione’s exposed skin.

Watching Draco react and croon to their children filled Hermione’s chest with a warmth she wasn’t prepared for. Feeling her eyes begin to water, she looked up at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. To think she had nearly lost the opportunity to share this with him because she let her fear drive her horrified her.

“That’s amazing,” Draco said in a hushed voice as he turned back to face Hermione, his hand still resting on her belly, “you’re amazing, this is amazing, thank you,” he said softly moving to place a kiss against her cheek.

Not wanting to miss another opportunity to be with Draco, Hermione turned her face at the last moment catching his lips in a kiss. Feeling Draco stiffen above her, Hermione pressed her lips to his three more times before he caught on and deepened the kiss. 

It wasn’t that Draco was unfamiliar with kissing Hermione, they’d had a fair amount of practice during their time in France, it was just that it was usually him who initiated the kiss. His mind was flooded with thoughts of not pushing her too far but hearing her moan delicately against his mouth vanished any doubt he had.

In an effort to get closer still, Draco somewhat reluctantly removed his hand from Hermione’s abdomen and placed it by the side of her body, mirroring the movement with his other hand so he was hovered above her.

Needing to feel the weight of his body against hers, Hermione wrapped one hand around the back of Draco’s neck as she hooked a leg up and over his hip. Pulling him down towards her as she tried in vain to get some friction where she needed it most.

_ Fuck, _ Draco thought as his hand roved greedily along Hermione’s bare leg, it felt so sinfully good to have her pressed up against him again, his hand skated across the top of Hermione’s shorts, over her exposed bump before vanishing beneath her camisole. He was silently grateful that she had changed into some of her old summer pyjamas. 

Leisurely caressing every inch of skin available to him as he snogged her senseless, Draco ever so gently took Hermione’s breast into his palm giving it a small squeeze as his thumb danced across the peak of her nipple. 

Moaning incoherently as Draco continued his fondling of her breasts Hermione felt heat pool between her legs, every touch set her skin on fire in a way she had never experienced before, needing some form of friction Hermione lifted her hips and rubbed herself against Draco’s erection, making a sharp  _ “fuck” _ slip from his lips.

Breaking their kiss but keeping his hand nestled happily under Hermione’s camisole Draco looked down at her as she squirmed against him, golden light from the waterfall danced across their entwined bodies and Draco stared into her eyes, seeing nothing but her adoration and desire. Unable to hold back any further Draco moved himself to nestle between her hips, Hermione’s legs moving to accommodate him as they came to rest around his hips. 

Holding his gaze as he looked down at her, Hermione leaned up to recapture his lips as her hand travelled from his neck, dancing across his back and gripping his arms as he pushed his hips against hers. Needing more than just kissing, Hermione allowed her hand to continue on its journey, her nails scratching his skin as they travelled across his stomach coming to rest above the elastic of his boxers. 

Draco moaned as Hermione teased her way along the waistband, his erection pressing into the palm of her hand as she caressed and squeezed him, just when Draco thought he was about to lose his mind her fingers dipped beneath the material and cradled him. “Fuck Hermione,” he groaned as she caressed the tip of his penis with her thumb, spreading his precum across his tip. 

Smirking as Draco rested his forehead against hers, Hermione gripped his hard length in her hand, rubbing him up and down, enjoying the feel of total control, it had been so long since she had been this uninhibited. Hermione sucked lightly on Draco’s exposed skin, his throat angled perfectly towards her, making him gasp and pull back in surprise, “what?” Hermione questioned playfully.

Releasing a low growl Draco recaptured Hermione’s lips, rolling his hips as she again squeezed his solid length, his hands moved frantically against her body, caressing every inch as his breathing escalated. Eventually Hermione released him, her hands moving to grip his shoulders as Draco pushed himself against her, driving her wild.

“Draco,” Hermione panted, reaching down to tug at the hem of her camisole, trying to strip it from her body, “clothes, off.”

Needing no further encouragement, Draco silently vanished the clothes from their bodies and surged forward to reclaim Hermione’s lips. Aligning his body perfectly with hers, careful not to put any pressure on the bump, Draco felt the head of his cock press against her entrance.

“Please,” Hermione moaned, wiggling herself beneath him as Draco kissed down the column of her throat, pausing to suck at the skin where it joined her shoulder.

“Are you sure we can do this?” Draco asked, coming up for air and glancing at the bump between them. He so desperately wanted to join his body with hers but fear of somehow hurting the babies held him back.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered, sliding her foot so it rested on Draco’s ass and pressing down so his body moved forward. Feeling him slide between her folds Hermione let out a sigh of satisfaction, why they hadn’t been doing this throughout her pregnancy was beyond her.

“Gods,” Draco grunted, feeling himself bottom out inside of her as her walls clenched tightly around him. Slowly, Draco drew himself back before pushing all the way back in, releasing a shaky breath as he repeated the process. She was simply divine and knowing that she was actually his this time made his heart sing. Their first time together had been so overwhelming, flooring Draco with the depth of feeling he had for her and now he could feel their bond strengthening, developing…  _ changing. _

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco caught the golden light in the waterfall shimmer and pulsate, briefly reminding him of the night they had conceived. However, he was quickly distracted by Hermione’s sumptuous moans.

“Please, Draco, please,” Hermione begged, reaching down to firmly grab Draco’s ass and move him closer. “I need…”

“What do you need?” Draco breathed, kissing down her neck as he gripped her hip, pushing himself deeply inside her. 

“More,” Hermione whispered, squirming as she tried to align her body with Draco’s so he hit that sweet spot. Unable to get the right position, Hermione broke away from Draco’s kisses placing her hands on Draco’s shoulders, “I need to go on top.”

“Do it,” Draco answered, his voice husky with need as he pulled away and rolled onto his back, gripping Hermione’s hips as she climbed atop him and slowly sunk down on his solid length, “better?”

“Much,” Hermione panted, rolling her hips as Draco groaned beneath her, “you ok?”

“More than ok,” Draco growled, pushing himself up as Hermione ground down on him, “you’re stunning.”

“Gods, Draco,” Hermione moaned, her breath stuttering as Draco’s hands snaked up from her hips to tease her breasts, “keep doing that.”

“You like that?” Draco asked, sitting up slightly so he could take one nipple into his mouth as his hand pinched the other.

“Oooh,” Hermione squealed, treading her fingers through Draco’s hair and gripping it firmly, keeping him in position as she continued to ride him. 

“So,  _ fucking _ , hot,” Draco hissed, falling back onto the pillows with one hand returning to Hermione’s hip as the other continued to tease her gloriously full breasts.

“So  _ close _ ,” Hermione whined, biting her lower lip as her head fell back. Heat was slowly unfurling as she approached her orgasm, curling up through her body and with it, a deep sense of home and belonging. 

Locking eyes with Draco, Hermione felt their connection spark and grow, gaining strength as their movements became more urgent.

“Let go,” Draco commanded, feeling her walls flutter and pulse around him. She was truly breathtaking in this moment and as Draco watched her shake with her release he snapped his hips up and came with a cry of, “Hermione!”

Panting heavily, Hermione leaned forward and rested one hand on Draco’s chest as the other rubbed over her heart. It was pounding unsteadily as her blood thrummed through her body, her skin tingling with a warmth she didn’t understand. Opening her mouth to draw in a lungful of air, Hermione’s breath hitched, causing her to gasp as a white hot pain launched through her chest.

“Are you ok?” Draco asked, his voice sounding far away as Hermione screwed her eyes up against the tingling heat.

“Yeah,” she gasped, trying to keep her breathing under control as her body sporadically twitched, “I think we just.. overdid it.”

“What can I do?” Draco asked, his hands rubbing any part of Hermione he could get to as he started to panic.

“Just keep talking,” Hermione muttered, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, “keep touching me.”

“Ok,” Draco replied, looking for his wand and seeing it out of his reach, “just take some nice deep breaths, like we practiced with Healer Bradstone, in— and out.”

Listening to Draco’s voice guide her, Hermione followed his instruction, breathing carefully in and out until the pain had subsided and she felt in charge of her body once more. Blinking her eyes open, Hermione looked down at Draco, grabbing both of his hands and giving them a light squeeze, “thank you.”

“No problem,” Draco replied, studying her features carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort, “better?”

“Better,” Hermione nodded, trying to move her legs which seemed locked around Draco’s torso. 

“Lean on me,” Draco murmured, massaging Hermione’s hips to help bring back the feeling, “I can take it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” Hermione replied, smirking as she shifted her weight forward so she had the flexibility to move her legs.

“What’s that?” Draco asked, running his hand over Hermione’s chest as she hovered above him.

“What?” Hermione asked, tiredness making her bones feel heavy as she sat next to Draco.

“This,” Draco said quietly, running his finger over the black X which had appeared on her skin. Sitting up, Draco took a closer look, the mark looked like a brush stroke, soft edged and not completely solid.

Looking down, Hermione found the mark Draco was carefully tracing, “that wasn’t there when I woke up,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn behind her hand as her eyes roved Draco’s chest, “you’ve got one too.”

“I do?” Draco questioned, looking down at his own chest as Hermione settled down next to him, “fuck me.”

“Just did,” Hermione giggled, pulling the duvet over herself and snuggling down into the pillows. 

Turning his bewildered gaze from his chest to a still giggling, half asleep Hermione, Draco wondered what to do. Idly, he traced the X with his finger, feeling his magic tingle beneath his skin. It couldn’t be a coincidence that they were marked whilst in the cave, after spectacular sex nontheless, but what did it mean?

Lying back, smiling when Hermione curled into his side, Draco replayed their coupling in his mind. In the moment, Draco hadn’t thought anything of the intense feelings that washed over him as they came together but reflecting on it now… there had been something  _ different _ about this time.

The magic that had guided them to each other during their first time had been rich with the promise of new beginnings but this magic… felt final. Draco couldn’t really put it into words but he felt  _ whole _ with Hermione led beside him.

Despite the feeling of completeness, Draco couldn’t shake the thought that their markings meant something bigger than they could understand. Stretching for his wand on the nightstand, Draco lifted it and cast the diagnostic spell taught to him by Hermione’s healers, just to be sure she and the babies were ok.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary— to his eyes anyway— Draco placed his wand back down and pulled Hermione against him, his hand resting against her stomach as the twins kicked again. Just as his eyes were about to close, he caught that golden light shimmering and dancing in the pool. It was the second time he’d seen that strange golden light and as he drifted off to sleep, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if it meant something. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well damn… I did it! Two years of work and I’ve finished my first ever fic! I never expected to reach 100k or have people follow/comment so consistently, I am extremely grateful to each and every one of you, you’ve made finishing this up fun!
> 
> Thanks as always to TectonicTigress and TriDogMom for being the best Alpha’s ever! I could not have done it without their thoughts and encouragement!
> 
> Now… onto the last chapter, I do hope you enjoy!

In the six weeks since their last time in the cave, Hermione could happily say that their life had thankfully, slowed down. She had woken next to Draco, feeling thoroughly refreshed and together they bid farewell to Lofn’s cave and moved all of Hermione’s belongings to Draco’s cottage. Within the week, Draco found them the perfect country home, whilst it was still larger than anything Hermione would have considered previously, she appreciated that Draco had scaled back his initial vision. 

Looking out over the green expanse, Hermione breathed in the fresh country air, still unable to believe Draco had moved everything along so quickly. From their initial viewing— where Hermione burst into tears at the mere sight of the house— to having the offer accepted and contracts exchanged only two weeks passed. It still boggled her mind that this was it,  _ their home _ , the place their son and daughter would grow up. 

Leaning against the door frame, Hermione rubbed consoling circles where she could feel the children moving, their activity having really picked up in the last few weeks. She and Draco now spent their evenings counting the kicks and recording it in their journal.

Hermione still found it hard to believe that everything had fallen so perfectly into place but, watching Draco as he interacted with their friends and family, she couldn’t imagine it any other way. 

With her research into the cave officially completed, Hermione suggested to her supervisor they allow St Mungo’s to use the pool in some fertility trials. The idea came to her one night following a conversation with Ginny. They’d been having a girls night whilst the boys went out to the Leaky and ended up talking about their pregnancies, with Ginny revealing that their healer was baffled by the pregnancy as Harry’s latest test hadn’t shown any major improvement. When they worked the dates back, Hermione released right around the time of conception, Harry had been in the pool water with her. 

When she got to the office the following day, Hermione pulled Harry’s file from that day and noticed a slight increase to his magical core. Whilst it wasn’t enough to prove that the pool water also affected his fertility, after a conversation with Healer Bradstone, Hermione was confident it had. 

This in turn, led to Healer Bradstone asking Draco for a sample to further back up their assumption and it was safe to say Draco happily obliged. The following week at their check up, Healer Bradstone advised the pair of them to be extremely careful when the pregnancy was over as Draco’s count was exceptionally high and his sperm very mobile, meaning they could very easily fall pregnant again. 

However, the most startling thing they had discovered during that appointment was that Hermione’s magic had returned— stronger than it had been before. As soon as the words had passed the Healers lips, Draco cussed and reminded Hermione of their night in the cave, the strange pain she experienced and their lingering marks. 

Healer Bradstone quickly summoned Healer Norton— and Healer Turpentine for good measure— so they could run some diagnostic tests before allowing Hermione to even attempt the simplest spell. When every test had come back clear and Hermione had been able to perform multiple spells without any negative side effects, they had all given her a clean bill of health.

“Hiding from your own birthday party, Granger?” Theo asked, making Hermione jump as he and Daphne entered the room.

“Not at all,” Hermione smiled back, greeting the pair with a hug.

“Those babies are getting big now,” Daphne commented, nodding at Hermione’s protruding stomach.

“Don’t I know it,” Hermione laughed, rubbing her hand over the stretched skin wincing as one of the twins kicked her hard in the ribs, “I think it’s getting a bit cramped in there.”

“Come on then,” Daphne said, looping her arm through Hermione’s and walking with her out into the garden, “let’s get the mum to be a seat.”

“As long as Draco doesn’t start talking about his super sperm,” Theo muttered darkly, making Hermione laugh and Draco look up.

“I was wondering where you were,” Draco said, taking Hermione from Daphne and steering her to sit in their cosy loveseat.

“Just admiring the view,” Hermione replied, leaning into Draco and sneaking a kiss.

“Not in front of the children,” Narcissa scolded as Ajax and Teddy came zooming over.

“It’s good to show affection,” Maia replied, scooping Ajax up into her arms and peppering his face with kisses as the child giggled and squirmed.

“What did Draco get you for your birthday?” Ginny asked, leaning back into Harry’s arms, a small smile on her face as Harry’s hand moved to the slight curve of her stomach.

Hermione blushed slightly at the question, it wasn’t embarrassing, it was just  _ personal _ . “Draco had a personalised family tree made for me.” It was truly beautiful, something Hermione knew she would cherish forever, Draco had limited it to only show their parents— not needing to see the entire Black Malfoy line.

“That sounds beautiful,” Ginny replied, “do the babies show on it yet?”

“Only as baby boy and baby girl Malfoy,” Draco answered, “their names won’t appear until the births are registered.”

“Are you guys ready for the babies arrival?” Daphne asked, sipping on her cocktail as Theo drifted off to find Blaise. 

“As ready as we can be,” Draco replied, hoisting Teddy up onto his lap as the youngster turned his hair platinum blonde.

“The nursery is set up,” Hermione added, ticking each item off on her fingers, “bassinets are ready in our room, clothes are organised, overnight bag is packed, there are lots of blankets and we’ve got the cutest double pushchair to take them out in.”

“And you’re still not going to give us a hint as to their names?” Narcissa pried, arching a perfect eyebrow as she sipped her tea.

“Not a chance,” Draco laughed, “that’s for us only.”

“I’ve been trying to break him for weeks,” Harry added, laughing as he remembered using every known Auror interrogation technique to no avail.

“They’re both being very tight lipped,” Hugo chuckled, “won’t even tell her own parents.”

“This is one of the few things that’s just for us,” Hermione said, leaning into Draco, “until they are born anyway.”

“So unfair,” Maia pouted, releasing Ajax so he could go back to playing with Teddy as he squirmed from Draco’s lap, “and we can’t even have a hint?”

“Are they constellations?” Narcissa interjected, looking hopefully at Draco and Hermione.

“Our lips are sealed,” Hermione replied coyly, miming locking her lips as she smiled.

Both mothers huffed at Hermione’s statement making the younger adults laugh. 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Draco said, rising from his seat and looking over at Harry, “Potter, will you give me a hand?”

“Of course,” Harry replied, kissing Ginny’s cheek before following Draco into the house.

“I wonder what they’re up to,” Hermione mumbled, watching the two retreating forms with suspicion. 

“Don’t worry about it darling,” Maia responded with a knowing smirk. 

“Hmm,” Hermione said through pursed lips, absently rubbing her now huge stomach as the twins wiggled around.

“Are they still keeping you up?” Daphne asked with a nod towards Hermione’s stomach.

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed, recalling how Healer Bradstone told her to expect this in the later stage of her pregnancy. “I think they are night owls.”

“You were always keeping me awake at night,” Maia laughed, leaning into Hugo, “just think of it as practice for when they are here.”

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to reply, Draco’s voice carried over the garden, “happy birthday to you…” as he carried a giant cake.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione whispered as Ajax and Teddy came running back over screaming “cake!” at the top of their lungs.

Hearing everyone sing along with Draco, Hermione felt her cheeks stain with a blush, still not one for a lot of attention. 

Stopping in front of Hermione, Draco placed the cake down on the table and wrapped his arm around Hermione’s shoulder, “happy birthday darling, don’t forget to make a wish.”

Leaning into his embrace, Hermione closed her eyes and allowed the feeling of family to wash over her, knowing she had everything she needed right there.

Opening her eyes as everyone applauded, Hermione caught Narcissa’s eye as she looked between Hermione face and chest, clearly trying to get Hermione to look down. Seeing her mark on show, Hermione hastily pulled the collar of her dress up, sending a grateful smile to Narcissa as Draco cut the cake and shared it around.

They had made the decision only to share their accidental bonding with their parents, needing to come to terms with it themselves before sharing with their wider circle of friends. Needless to say, Narcissa had been thrilled when they went to her to decipher the meaning of the black X’s over their hearts.

Using Narcissa’s book, they discovered the X stood for the rune  _ Gebo _ and one of its many definitions was  _ sacred union _ . When they reviewed everything that had happened between them in the cave, leaving out some of the more lemony details for all their sakes, they all speculated that a tentative bond had formed when they first entered the cave. 

Although their bonding was not in keeping with the traditional tale of Lofn, Narcissa suggested Draco’s feelings for Hermione all that time ago sparked the interest of Lofn after decades of not being called upon. Unable to fully bond the pair of them that night, the already existing bond of friendship was strengthened with ancient magic. 

With Draco’s reminder of the literal sparks between them the night they conceived the twins, Narcissa insisted Lofn  _ tried _ to bond the pair of them that night. However, due to Hermione’s still intact wedding bonds she couldn’t be bound to another. So naturally, the next time they were together, the bond took hold. 

“Where’s your head at?” Draco whispered, sitting down beside Hermione and handing her a slice of birthday cake.

“I was just remembering,  _ everything, _ ” she whispered in reply. Their bond was made up of so much more than sex, the one thing Hermione could remember above everything else was their connection. There wasn’t another soul in the world who knew her like Draco did.

Draco was her one true home. Being bonded to him was no longer scary, it was right. After everything they had endured together they gave each other strength and never had Hermione placed such trust in one person. Her whole life had been about being the smartest person in the room, knowing more, being  _ better _ than anyone thought she could be. 

It had certainly saved lives, changed many others, but letting go of the need to control the variables set Hermione free. Surrounded by her family and friends, eagerly awaiting the next chapter of her life to begin, Hermione felt like the luckiest witch alive. 

After all the cake had been consumed, gifts exchanged and children taken home, Hermione snuggled into bed with Draco. “Thank you,” she said, snuggling back into Draco’s embrace as she maneuvered her pregnancy pillow into place, “this has been the best birthday ever.”

“Anything for you,” Draco replied, kissing gently along Hermione’s neck as she melted into him, “can I ask what you wished for?”

“You can,” Hermione murmured, taking his hand from her bump and pressing a kiss to his knuckles, “I didn’t wish for anything.”

“Why would you waste your wish?” Draco questioned, smiling when Hermione returned his hand to her bump in time for a firm kick to his palm.

“I didn’t need it,” Hermione confessed, wincing slightly as a well aimed kick struck her ribs, “I already have everything I need, right here.”

Placing a kiss to her cheek, Draco gently squeezed Hermione, there wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t feel grateful for the life he now had. A life that once upon a time, seemed unattainable. “I love you,” he muttered, his breath ghosting across her ear lobe making her shiver beside him.

“I love you  _ more _ ,” Hermione assured him, twisting her torso slightly so she could capture his lips for a kiss. 

“Not possible,” Draco teased, settling himself back around Hermione and closing his eyes. Content in each other's embrace, they both drifted into dreams of their future, together. 


End file.
